rs quietly and methodically; and
her house always had an atmosphere of cosy, restful well-being, which
seemed to calm her and persuade her to stay in it. The two maids, with
whom she was always the calm, pleasant mistress of the house, liked her,
did their work quietly and soon learnt what was expected of them. During
these days when she was alone, she went all over the house with them,
made them give Van der Welcke's room and Addie's room a thorough
cleaning, went through every corner of her cupboards with her gentle,
mindful fingers, the fingers of a dainty woman who imparted something of
her own daintiness to everything that she touched.

She was not a great reader, did not play the piano, was not even
particularly cultured. As a child, she had been fond of fairy-tales; as
a child, she had even invented fairy-tales; but, apart from that, she
did not care much for literature; poetry she regarded as insincere; and
she did not know much about music. But there was something soft and
pretty and distinguished about her, something exquisite and feminine,
especially now that her vanity was really dead. She had an innate taste
for never doing or saying anything that was ugly or harsh or coarse; and
it was only when her nerves got the better of her that she could lose
her temper and fly into a passion. But, owing especially to her sadness
and to the grey and dismal years which she had passed, she had developed
a very sensitive, soft heart, almost hypersensitive and oversoft. A word
of sympathy at once fell upon her like kindly dew and made her love
whoever uttered it. She had become very fond of her mother, more so than
formerly, appreciating in Mamma the mother who kept her children
together. She also shared that family-affection, that strange fondness
for all her kith and kin. But she often experienced what Mamma never
felt: the disappointment and depression and discouragement of loving
with a love that was deep and inclusive those whose changing, complex
interests were for ever taking them farther and farther out of reach. At
such times, she just remained at home, in her own house, wrapped herself
in her gentle melancholy, went over the house with the maids, who liked
her, in order that everything might be very nice and neat. She had
nothing of the Dutch housewife about her; and the maids often told her
that Mrs. So-and-so used to do things this way and Mrs. What's-her-name
that way. But she had so much tact that they did as