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The shares do not pay anything just now. But who knows if they will not be better some day? And besides, what does it matter to Uncle? Such a little thing " She interrupts with unusual eagerness, almost anxiously. "I beg of you, Maurits, do not do it. Give in to me this once." He looks at her, a little offended. "This once! as if I were a tyrant over you. No, do you see.
His name was you, His name was I, His name was all in Earth and Sky. What was his name? His name was why." The saying had irritated her many a time. Oh, how stupid she had thought the dog was! But now half asleep, she confuses the dog "What" with Maurits and she thinks that the dog has his white forehead. Then she laughs. She laughs as easily as she cries. She has inherited that from her father.
Ten minutes later she was rattling down Maurits Kade towards the Villa des Dunes. A deep bank of clouds had risen from the west, completely obscuring the sun, so that it seemed already to be twilight.
He hardly dared to think of what a fuss she had made when Maurits had informed her that he had engaged himself to a poor girl from a back street a girl who had no education, no accomplishments, and who was not even pretty; only sweet. In Maurits's eyes, of course, the daughter of a baker was just as good as the son of a burgomaster, but every one did not have such liberal views as he.
A little afraid of her betrothed, perhaps; but in her heart Downie is a little afraid of everybody, and that is a great help to her, for on account of it every one tries to show her that they are not dangerous. Never has she had such respect for Maurits as to-day.
Is it only he calling so at himself? What will happen afterwards? Oh, he will prepare her for Maurits's departure; show her that Maurits was not worthy of her; make her despise him. And then when she has cried her heart out on his breast, he shall so carefully, so skilfully make her understand what he feels, lure her, win her. The down still falls.
I would have lighted your fire, have been your eyes and your staff. Should I have been fit for that?" "Sweet little Downie," he answers, "you would." Again a flake comes and says: "I am so to be pitied. To-morrow my betrothed is leaving me without even saying farewell. To-morrow I shall weep, weep all day long, for I shall feel the shame of not being good enough for Maurits.
"Downie," says Uncle Theodore with his gruffest voice: "You have known it the whole time!" She began to whisper: "Had my brother " "And yet you wished, Downie Maurits is lucky to be rid of you. Such a foolish, deceitful, hypocritical Downie, such an unreliable little wisp, such a, such a " Ah, Downie, ah, silken flower!
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