“Everyone must act according to his own convictions, and consult his own tastes. Femke is too good to be forced to anything.”
There must have been some special reason why the mother was going to the theatre with the rest, when she preferred to stay at home with little Erich, who had the measles. But she was going to remain “only a little while,” and then come back with Uncle Sybrand. He would return to the theatre taking Femke with him, if she cared to go.
“I call it thick-headedness,” affirmed William. “She just don’t want to put on a fine dress.”
“No, she doesn’t want to be a fine lady,” said the mother. “She is very sensible and fears that this might disturb her relations with her mother. We ought to have taken her when she was little; but Mrs. Claus couldn’t give her up then. And now Femke can’t give herself up.”
“She’s only stubborn,” William explained.
“She is proud,” corrected his mother, “too proud to appear other than she is. She wouldn’t exchange places with a princess.”
Uncle Sybrand came. He announced that the “Scylla” of Rotgans was to be given, followed by “Chloris,” with something else as a close. Holsma had already returned, bringing Walter the assurance that it was all right with his mother.
Walter was enchanted in anticipation. Was he still thinking of Femke?
William said: “So far as I’m concerned she can stay at home. Suppose the students were to see me with a peasant girl! What would they do for me when I enter college in September?”
Such an Amsterdamer calls everybody a “peasant,” even if he is a student and able to explain what sort of a “Scylla” that was.