with tiny little kisses; and Alex and Guy hung, one on his arm, the other on his leg, while his Homeric laughter still rang long and loud.
And his laughter never ceased. He laughed till the servant peeped round the door and disappeared again, perplexed. He laughed till all the children, the nine of them, were laughing, for his laughter had tempted the three little ones—Jan, the tyrant, and his two small vassals—from the stairs, where they were playing. He laughed till Adeline, the dear quiet little mother, also got a painful fit of giggling, which made her choke silently in herself. And he could not stop; his laughter roared out and filled the house: even a street-boy, out of doors, flattened his nose against the window in an attempt to peer in and discover who was laughing like that inside.
And at last Gerrit got up, released himself from the three children, kissed Constance; and, with a red face, tears in his eyes and a mouth still distorted with merriment, he caught her two shoulders in his great hands and said, looking deep into her eyes:
"Don't be angry, Sissy, but I c-couldn't help it, I c-couldn't help it! . . . You'll be the death of me with laughing, if you go on like that! . . . And when you put on that kind little voice and or-order me . . . to eat a n-nice little egg . . . before you consent to go for a walk with me . . . ! . . . Oh, dear, oh, dear! I shall never get over it! . . . Very well . . . all right . . . just to please you . . . but then . . .
