“Indeed!—I met him a few minutes ago, he greeted me most politely—more politely in fact than usually.”
“Do you know, Meidema, what he came here for?”
“What he came here for? Not I,” replied the husband somewhat astonished at his wife’s words. The name of the opium-farmer had roused some suspicion within him though he was unable to guess what his errand might have been. “I suppose,” said he, after a moment’s pause, “I suppose he merely dropped in to have a chat.”
“Do you know,” said Mrs. Meidema, “that his son Lim Ho is about to be married?”
“Yes, I have heard some such rumour. To the daughter of that rich old Chinaman—is it not?”
“Yes, father,” interrupted Gesina, “to pretty little Ngow Ming Nio.”
“Lim Yang Bing,” continued Mrs. Meidema, “was here this morning to invite you and me and the girls to the wedding.”
“All right,” replied Meidema, “the girls will have rare fun; I daresay you know,” he continued, as he patted the cheek of one of the twins, “you know a Chinese marriage is a most interesting ceremony. Is that then the reason why you all look so solemn? Oh, aye—I see—it is about the dresses. The other day when the Resident gave his ball we had some trouble about that. It is a great expense no doubt; but—”
“No, Meidema, that is not troubling me, for the Chinaman offers us a present.”