sides the three ladies, came the three little children,
while Alex scrambled down from the box. The waiter would put two tables
together; and ices and pastry were ordered. And, whereas, at the Van
Naghels' house, the old woman enjoyed above all the veneer of state
which distinguished their life, the life that reminded her of her own
great days, she enjoyed herself in a different way amid that little
brood of Adeline's, enjoyed all that fair-haired, merry, natural
youthfulness, where there were no pretensions whatever to state: she was
no longer the worldly grandmamma, interested in official dinners and
receptions and the Russian minister, but the radiant grandmamma, who
rejoiced at having so many dear little grandchildren, all so young. It
was pleasant, she would say to Constance, that Gerrit had married rather
late--he was thirty-five when he married--because through that, she
said, she had so many young grandchildren. And it was nice, she said,
that they were Van Lowes, the only little Van Lowes, three little sons
to keep the name alive, for Karel had no children; and Ernst and Paul
were sure never to marry, she thought. And, though she did not care much
for the name and reckoned all grandchildren as profit, as so much to the
good, she nevertheless felt most for the little Van Lowes, for the three
little boys especially, for the heirs of the name which she had married.
And so, while winter was the time which she enjoyed at the Van Naghels',
she devoted her summer at the Hague to Gerrit and Adeline. She helped
Adeline, who had to be very careful with a moderate income and such a
large troop of little ones, and regularly, in the summer, the old lady
dressed the fair-haired little children, gave them all something, saw
that they had pretty clothes to go about in.

And Constance also delighted in this simple household, especially since
Gerrit had conceived a sort of passion for her. Gerrit and Paul were her
brothers now; and Dorine sulked a bit. She did not get on with
Constance, she could not tell why. Constance had spoken so very nicely
to her that first evening; and Dorine had helped Mamma, with all her
heart, to prepare a cordial welcome for Constance among the brothers and
sisters. But their natures were not made to harmonize; and Dorine was
now muttering that Constance must always have men about her, that she
got on best with Gerrit and Paul, who both paid court to her after a
fashion. Her brothers had never paid cou