“AN OLD MAID’S LOVE”
“Yes, uncle, I should like to go back to Horstwyk to-day,” Ursula was saying at breakfast. “I have had a letter from father, and Aunt Josine seems far from well.”
She had found the letter on her return from last night’s dissipation. It was a long and affectionate letter, full of praises of Otto, who came frequently to the Parsonage, enjoying the quiet strength of the minister’s talk. The letter certainly stated that Miss Mopius had been laid up with a feverish cold.
“Nonsense, Ursula,” cried Mynheer Mopius loudly. “Of course, Josine has been ill; it’s her solitary pastime. Why, your visit has hardly begun.”
“We want to hear all about last night,” interposed Harriet, in her sleepy tones. “You look quite worn out this morning; you must have enjoyed yourself immensely.”
“Oh, bother last night,” said Mopius. “We don’t care to know about the grandees. Were there many of them there?”
“Yes, there were a good many people,” replied Ursula, wearily, “most of them young. I didn’t enjoy myself so very much, because, you see, I don’t dance.”
“Was the Governor there, or his wife,” asked Mopius, “or the Burgomaster? I suppose you saw the Van Troyens?”
“And the Governor’s daughter?” added Harriet. “The pretty girl with the hazel eyes?”
“I remember a Mr. Van Troyen, an officer,” said Ursula, vaguely. “Uncle, may I send a telegram for this afternoon. I could always come back on Monday, you know.”