It blew and rang and screeched and jabbered; and the girl with her continual false note—ting!—heard none of it, but thought only, "Oh, those poor trees! Oh, those poor leaves!" in her gentle little, hypersensitive soul. Used as she was to the wind, the noises and the colours, she saw nothing but the trees, heard nothing but the rustling of the leaves, nor heard her own persistent little false note: ting!
Ting-a-ling, ting-a-ling went the bell; and the wind must have rushed through the front-door and up the stairs, for the drawing-room door blew open as lightly as though the great door had been no more than a sheet of note-paper; the maid came pounding up the stairs, the stairs creaked, another door slammed; the maid, at the door, screamed out something loud through the house, loud through the wind, loud through all the sounds and colours; another voice sounded sharply in reply; the maid went pounding down again, the stairs creaked and bang went the door:
"Will you please go upstairs, mevrouw?"
"Come upstairs, Cateau!"
"But am I re-ally not disturb-ing you, Adolph-ine?"
"No, come up."
"What a wind, eh, Phi-i-ine? Eh? How it's blow-ing!"
Ta-ta, ta-ta, ta-ta, ta-ta; ta-ta, ta-ta, ta-ta, ta-ta, went Marietje's scales, as Mamma entered with Aunt Cateau. Whew, boo! blew the wind. C-r-rack, cr-r-rack! went the flagstaff outside the window....
"Good-morn-ing, Marie-tje. And tell me, Phi-i-ine, was it a reg-ular din-ner?"
"Yes, it was a formal dinner."