The children were determined to have their well earned romp; and they had it. Walter rubbed his eyes, and would not believe his ears. It was beyond his comprehension. * * * *
“That will do now,” said the doctor. “Come, mamma is waiting dinner—and you, too, my boy!”
William took Sietske on his back and Hermann mounted the father. Thus they descended the stairs, Walter bringing up the rear. Lady Macbeth had disappeared, being now crumpled up in Walter’s breast-pocket.
Walter was nonplussed. Was this the same man who used the gold pen?—whose coachman wore the furs?
How was it possible? Was it a dream, that he and all the family had looked on this man and simply been overcome by his dignity?
He couldn’t understand it.
Again the atmosphere of the dining-room was quite different from that of the schoolroom, either before or directly after five.
“Present the young gentleman to your mamma,” said the doctor, turning to William.
“May I do it?” asked Sietske.
Doctor Holsma nodded, and the little girl took Walter by the hand and conducted him to a lady who sat at the head of the table preparing the salad.