Thus, on the present occasion, when he saw this courtly Spaniard bowing low to him, a humble Dutch tradesman, he was overwhelmed, and mumbled in reply, "Certainly, certainly." If a glance could have withered him, without doubt Dirk would immediately have been shrivelled to nothing.

To say that Lysbeth was angry is too little, for in truth she was absolutely furious.

She did not like this Spaniard, and hated the idea of a long interview with him alone.

Moreover, she knew that among her fellow townspeople there was a great desire that the Count should not win this race, which in its own fashion was the event of the year, whereas, if she appeared as his companion it would be supposed that she was anxious for his success.
Lastly--and this was the chiefest sore--although in theory the competitors had a right to ask any one to whom they took a fancy to travel in their sledges, in practise they only sought the company of young women with whom they were on the best of terms, and who were already warned of their intention.
In an instant these thoughts flashed through her mind, but all she did was to murmur something about the Heer van Goorl---- "Has already given his consent, like an unselfish gentleman," broke in Captain Juan tendering her his hand.
Now, without absolutely making a scene, which then, as to-day, ladies considered an ill-bred thing to do, there was no escape, since half Leyden gathered at these "sledge choosings," and many eyes were on her and the Count.

Therefore, because she must, Lysbeth took the proferred hand, and was led to the sledge, catching, as she passed to it through the throng, more than one sour look from the men and more than one exclamation of surprise, real or affected, on the lips of the ladies of her acquaintance.