Mathilde loved the idea, even though Addie did not give it a thought. Of the girls, however, only Gerdy cared about it; but Guy would go with her.
"So none of you: Adeletje? . . . Mary? . . . Marietje?"
No, they did not feel inclined, even though Aunt Constance urged them, said that they very seldom had any fun, that they ought really to go, now that the chance offered. But the girls didn't want to; and Aunt Constance said:
"Well, then, you and Uncle will just make four; so you can go in the carriage."
But Mathilde preferred to dress at Utrecht, in an hotel, because her dress would get creased in the carriage; and she decided to go in the afternoon, with a box.
On the evening of the ball, Constance grumbled at Adeletje, Mary and Marietje, because they took no pleasure in dancing, and said that, if this went on, they would move to the Hague, because the girls were growing so dull in the country. Constance' nerves were raw; and she said angry, unreasonable things; her eyes filled with tears.
"But, Auntie," said Marietje, "we're all so happy here together! Why talk about the Hague? What do we care about a dance?"
"That's just it. I think it unnatural."
"Listen to it blowing!" said Adeletje.
"And raining!" said Marietje—Mary.
"That's what Uncle and Gerdy and Guy are driving through," said Adeletje.
"The poor horses!" said Marietje—Mary.
The others laughed.
"Yes, the horses will get wet, poor things!" said Marietje—Mary.
"Dirk'll look after them," said Constance. "The horses are taken out so seldom."
