guage than Malay. She had intimated her wish to continue her own household, to which Tine agreed with pleasure. And this agreement did not spring from want of hospitality, but chiefly from the fear that, having only just arrived at Lebak, and therefore not yet being “straight,” she would not be able to make Mrs. Slotering as comfortable as the special circumstances of that lady made desirable. True, as she did not speak Dutch, she would not be “harmed” by the stories of Max, as Tine had called it; but the latter realized that more was necessary than not to harm the Slotering family, and the ill-furnished kitchen, in connection with the proposed economy, made her really consider Mrs. Slotering’s desire very sensible. Whether, for the remainder, had the circumstances been different, the conversation with a person who spoke only one language, in which nothing has been printed that refines the mind, would have been conducive to mutual enjoyment, is doubtful. Tine would of course have associated with her as much as possible, and spoken to her a good deal about kitchen affairs, about sambal-sambal,[1] about pickling ketimon—without Liebig, ye gods!—but that kind of thing must in any case be a sacrifice, and it was therefore entirely satisfactory that owing to Mrs. Slotering’s voluntary seclusion things had been settled in a manner which left both parties perfectly free. Still, it was peculiar that this lady had not only declined to take part in the common meals, but that she would not even make use of the offer to have her food prepared in the kitchen of Havelaar’s house. This modesty, Tine said, was carried a little far, for there was room enough in the kitchen.
- ↑ Entremets.
