"Over there by the railway—in the lodging-house," replied Marjon.
Mevrouw looked rather coldly, and said: "Well, boys, you may go home now. Here are three marks for each of you. And, Johannes, will you not write out that little song for me? There really was a charming melancholy in it. 'Twas sympathetic."
"Yes, Mevrouw, I will do so. And then may I come and bring it to you myself?"
"Certainly, certainly!" said the lady; but, at the same time, she closely scrutinized his clothing, through her lorgnette.
When they had turned away, and were out of sight, Marjon ran straight back again to the rear of the hotel, and began making personal inquiries, and kept busy as long as she could find any one who knew anything about the household of the stately lady, and the two lovely little girls.
"Do you mean the Countess?" asked a conceited head-waiter, with scornful emphasis. "Do you perchance belong to the family?"
"Well, why not?" retorted Marjon, with great self-assurance. "All the same, there have been countesses who eloped with head-waiters."
The cook and the chambermaids laughed.
"Clear out, you rascal!" said the waiter.
"What country is she from?" asked Marjon, undeterred.