The Resident led the procession with the Commandant’s wife on his arm, immediately behind them, came fair Laurentia on the arm of that commanding officer, while the chief of the medical staff followed with Anna, This was a thorn in van Nerekool’s side; but when, after the Polonaise, were heard the exhilarating strains of “L’invitation à la valse,” the old doctor had led Anna to a seat, youth asserted its rights, and soon Anna and Charles were gliding together in the inner gallery. It was a sight, to see the two young people so happy, with pleasure beaming from their eyes.
“I believe,” said Anna in a subdued voice, as she waltzed, “I believe there is some news about Ardjan.”
“About Ardjan?” asked Van Nerekool, evidently perplexed. Not, indeed, the case of Anna’s protégé but merely his name had escaped the young man’s memory, his face told that plainly enough.
“Yes, Ardjan, don’t you recollect, baboe Dalima’s lover,” rejoined Anna, “have you forgotten him already—Oh those men, those men!”
“I confess, it is very stupid of me,” replied van Nerekool; “but what news is there, Miss van Gulpendam?”
“I don’t yet know what it is, Mr. van Nerekool.”
“Mr. van Nerekool!” said Charles, “that sounds remarkably stiff and formal.”
“Miss van Gulpendam,” said Anna playfully in the same tone, “that also sounds remarkably stiff and formal.”
“Will you then give me the right to call you Miss Anna, or, shorter still—simply Anna—dear, darling Anna?”
The young girl blushed most prettily. She did not utter a word; but her hand, as it rested lightly on his shoulder, was her interpreter. The slightest little pressure, and that was all. It was almost imperceptible, but it was enough to make Charles the happiest of mortals. His right arm encircled her waist, with his left hand he held hers, while his eye was steadfastly fixed downward on the graceful form before him.