“Could it be a message from the Minister, papa?”
“Leen has not heard the bell—shall I ring?”
Mevrouw Van Arlen assented, and the sitting-room bell was heard—a quicker and more excited ring than the heavy, respectable front-door bell.
“The bell rang, Leen.”
“Yes, ma’am, I’m here.”
“No—the front-door bell.”
“No, indeed it didn’t, ma’am.”
“We all heard it.”
“Impossible,” muttered the maid to herself, as she went to see; “or else it must be some one who pulled the bell and ran away—and you can’t be always on the look-out for that.”
All listened in strained expectation. The front door was opened, but no sound of voices came from it; it was closed again, and Leentje was heard shuffling off to the kitchen.