Mathilde smiled, and allowed herself to be embraced.
“Come away now, all of you, to bed,” she said, somewhat conciliated.
“There’s a state Miss Frédérique’s bed is in,” said Martha, shaking her head; “I can just go and make it all over again, naughty rascals!”
“Good rascals!” cried Lientje.
Mathilde took her up in her arms, and Tine and Johan followed, stumbling as they went over their strange garments, and screaming with laughter at the success of their ruse.
“Hush! hush! or you will wake Nico!”
Miss Frantzen knew nothing about it; she was sitting near Nico’s bedside, with Hector at her feet, and engaged in knitting, and was not a little upset when she saw the caravan approaching. Those naughty children, to slip away slily like that; she was under the firm impression that they were all nicely asleep in the next room!
The three were put to bed, shivering and numbed, but mad with fun, and Miss Frantzen requested them not to talk any more, but to go to sleep.
And Mathilde bent down over the cot of her Nico, lying there with closed eyes in the blankets, the moist lips half open, and the little fair curls straggling over the pillow. Pet of a boy he was!… And the rest too, real darlings, terrible worries to be sure they were, and quite uncontrollable, especially with such helpers as mamma and Freddie. But still, how happy she was that she had them, the four of them.
And she bent down and just touched Nico’s little lips and felt his soft, warm breath on her cheek like a caress, and her tears fell on his forehead, so transparent and white, so soft .… the darling boy.… [[62]]