a low voice,
thinking involuntarily of her years in Rome, of De Staffelaer, of all
that had separated her from her people.

"Really?" asked Mamma, greatly interested.

"Yes, Van der Welcke would like it...."

She was still holding her mother's hand; and Mrs. van Lowe sat very
erect, looking pleased to have Constance back.

"Marie," said Auntie. "Do you know what I think so funny of you? You're
mad on your children, mad on them. But, when you see your daughter after
all these years, you let her sleep at the Hotel des Indes! Why is that?
Tell me."

"I saw Constance once or twice in Brussels," Mrs. van Lowe protested.

Constance laughed:

"But, Auntie, Mamma's like that, she has her own ways! And Adriaan,
Addie, would be too much for her ... though he's a very quiet boy."

Mamma said nothing, smiled peacefully. Yes, she was like that, she had
her own ways.

"I was saying to Uncle to-day," Auntie continued, "if it didn't look too
funny, I'd ask Constance myself to stay with us. 'There's that Marie,' I
said. 'She's got a big house and leaves her child at the Hotel des
Indes!' It's beyond me, Marie.... Constance, you must come and eat rice
with me and bring your husband and your boy. Do you like _nassi_?"[6]

"Yes, Auntie. We shall be delighted."

Constance and Auntie stood up; Constance walked towards the
conservatory. The young nephews and nieces were sitting at their round
game, but had stopped playing. And Constance shrank from going farther
and talking to them, for they hurriedly took up their cards again and
went on playing.

And she turned away and thought:

"They were talking about me...."

The servants came in with the trays:

"Who'll have a sandwich? Uncle, shall I mix you a drink?" asked Dorine,
moving restlessly about the rooms.

[6] Rice.

CHAPTER IV

Yes, she had longed for them all, for her home and for Holland! Oh, the
passionate longing of those last years, ever and ever more passionate!
Oh, how lonely she had been, and how she had pined for Holland, for the
Hague, for her relations! During all those years, she had been an
outcast from her home, an exile, as it were, during all those long,
hungry years. Twenty years she had spent abroad! For five of them she
had been married to De Staffelaer, the five years in Rome, and then ...
oh, the one mistake of her life! Ah, how she had pined since that
mistake, incessantly!... And, after the child was born, she had pined
incessantly.