Stoffel could not wait to hear more. It was time for him to go to school.
It may be repeated that there was not a word of truth in all this uneasiness and anxiety. The family considered such a display to be the proper thing; though, for the rest, they did not manifest the slightest interest in Walter’s fate. For aught they knew some accident might have happened to the boy; but, instead of making a serious effort to find out what had become of him, his mother found it easier to accuse him of indecorous conduct and general worthlessness.
Thus matters remained until Dr. Holsma’s carriage drove up before Juffrouw Pieterse’s door that afternoon and Kaatje alighted with her message. After the recent fright Walter had given her, she was glad enough to escape from such close proximity to the young lunatic. For thus she regarded him.
All rushed to the window.
“There he is; there he is!” cried the whole family in a breath, and as loud as they could. “Did you ever! Really, he’s sitting there in Dr. Holsma’s carriage.”
This flattering observation banished everything else from their thoughts, and made Kaatje’s task an easy one. It was now a simple matter for her to allay their fears. They were no longer concerned to know where Walter had been. It was enough that he was now in Dr. Holsma’s carriage.
“Ate breakfast at the doctor’s? Girl, you don’t say so! And—and—why isn’t the coachman wearing his furs?”
Kaatje was dumbfounded and could only stammer some reference to the season. In fact, the manner in which her message was being received strengthened her worst suspicions of Walter’s sanity. It seemed to her that the entire family was a little “off.”
“And he really ate breakfast at the doctor’s? Do you understand, Trudie? Ate breakfast at Dr. Holsma’s!”
“Yes, he ate breakfast with us. To be sure he did. The doctor himself said so.”