The countess-palatine, however, had got to the bottom of the matter. She was exchanging telegraphic messages with someone in the background on Mount Olympus. No one was thinking of Rotgans' play.
She was greeting someone with that famous fan. Whom? The rebellious confectioner? With arms extended she was testifying that there was something extraordinary up there among that rabble.
"Princess, thy reasons spare: to me they're odious!"
The countess-palatine threw off all restraint, and laughed and laughed. After the emperor had laughed hilarity was permissible. Her pleasure was beyond her control.
I should have to have a double pen to report what Uncle Sybrand said on his return, and, at the same time, reproduce the exclamation that escaped Walter, who was looking towards the gallery with eyes and mouth wide open.
"She didn't want to come," replied Uncle Sybrand. "Just as I said."
"Femke, M'neer, Femke, Femke--that is Femke! And she----"
The girl above had taken hold of the policeman by the collar and, pushing him to one side, had pressed forward to the front row. There she had seated herself on the laps of the fellows the policeman had been negotiating with in vain.
"It is Femke, M'neer. If only they don't hurt her!"
Again the emperor stood up and stared at Mount Olympus. He saw the girl with the North Holland cap and nodded to her. The countess-palatine greeted again with her fan, as if she would congratulate her on securing the seat.
"But, M'neer, it is Femke," cried Walter, amazed that he received no answer.
Even Holsma and Sybrand were surprised, but not so much so as Walter.
"Now, children," said Holsma, "you can tell your mother that we saw her." And to Walter he continued, "That girl is a relation of ours."
That sounded quite different from what Walter had said that evening when he "denied" her.
The girl's big blue eyes, roving about the hall, suddenly fell on Walter. She bent over, looked him attentively in the face, then nodded to him and threw him a kiss.
At least, he thought it was that way; and it was that way. But everyone in the parquet thought that the kiss had been intended for him. Folk of quality were annoyed at the insolence of the peasant wench; while more "sporty" persons returned the attention.