“Now you’ll need to send them off at once; may I help you to put the stamps on?”
“Surely, Marieke.”
The father and daughter sat down before the table, on which lay the long row of already written letters.
“Here’s Bismarck’s!” cried the girl suddenly.
“Put double stamps on that,” said Bloemstein.
Instead of obeying this order, Marieke contrived to slip the letter into her pocket.
“Shall I take them to the post-office now, father?”
“Yes, do, child—only mind you don’t lose any, specially the one to Bismarck.”
“You needn’t be afraid,” and she skipped out of the room to fetch her hat, and perhaps also the letter she had received from her fiancé.
It was not long before an answer came from Berlin.