And Marietje, in sheer wild ecstasy at the unexpected distraction, threw the "nightie" right up to the ceiling, where it caught in the chandelier, and rushed through the garden down the road. She flung one leg up in the air with delight.
"Auntie! Emilie!" Marianne heard her yelling, quite beside herself.
Marietje embraced her aunt and her sister madly at the gate of the villa, conducted them indoors, thanked them personally for the surprise which they were giving her, for the welcome distraction which their arrival provided....
"And Uncle Ernst?" asked Marianne. "Poor Uncle Ernst! We had a letter from Frances...."
Constance told her how he was getting on at Nunspeet, that he was still rather restless, because he would look all over the house for fettered souls that moaned and implored him to help them.
"Will the delusion never leave him?" asked Marianne, with tears in her eyes. "Auntie, will he never get better?"
"The doctor has every hope that it will not be permanent...."
Marietje had taken possession of Emilie:
"And so you're living in Paris? With Henri? What do you do there, the two of you? Come, let's hear! Aren't you going to ask me to stay? Haven't you a spare-room? Look out: I shall come tearing in from Brussels, suddenly! Just imagine if I did!"
But by this time they had passed through the dining-room into the drawing-room, where they found Bertha. She was sitting at the window; she looked up.