“He could have ridden home with our Martha. It’s a pity; I had something for him just to suit him,” said Madame van Erlevoort, in a tone of disappointment.
In the opposite drawing-room, where the girls, with Otto, Paul, and Etienne, were talking and laughing, there was a stir, and the young van Ryssels looked up with nervous curiosity. Martha had just come in, and she had smilingly said something to Frédérique.
“Now, children and all good folks,” cried Frédérique, with a dignified face, “silence! Santa Claus has arrived and wants to know if he may enter. Do you agree, mamma?”
They all kept themselves as serious as possible, with many a furtive glance at the little van Ryssels.
Meanwhile, Santa Claus made his appearance in his white gaberdine, and long red cloak bordered with gold lace. His hair and beard were long and white, and on his head he wore a golden mitre. With much dignity he made his entry into the room, leaning on his staff, and his black page behind him, dressed in a costume which those who had witnessed the recent tableaux at the [[76]]Verstraetens’ would probably have recognized. The three women-servants and Willem followed them by way of rear-guard, and remained in the room looking on.
The grown-up people all bowed, with a self-conscious smile, before my lord bishop.
Santa Claus muttered a greeting, and all but stumbling over his immensely long gaberdine, he walked up to the sofa, where old Madame van Raat and Madame Verstraeten were seated, surrounded by Madame van Erlevoort, Mr. Verstraeten, Mathilde, Betsy, and Otto. No one troubled himself to rise from his seat, and Madame van Erlevoort welcomed the illustrious guest with a most familiar smile.
“Why doesn’t grandma get up?” whispered Ernestine wondering, as she raised her delicate intelligent little face to Marie’s. “I thought she would have got up when such an old, strange gentleman came in.”
“Mais, écoute donc, comme elle est fine!” Marie whispered to Eline, who stood next to her.
But Eline did not hear; she stood laughing with Paul and Etienne at Santa Claus, whose gaberdine was certainly coming down, and already quite covered his feet, whilst a streak of fair hair became visible between his gray locks and his mitre.