-an-hour's visit. "But it is for my son. I must go through
with it...."

CHAPTER XXXIX

A few mornings later, when Constance woke, she remembered that it was
Saturday; and, with the apprehension which had kept her nerves on the
rack all the week long, she said to herself, as she rose:

"This is the day ... this is the day...."

She went to the letter-box again and again, almost hoping to find the
last issue of the scurrilous paper there. She was afraid also lest
Addie, before going to school or on coming home, should see it in the
box and look at it, to see what it was. She knew that Van der Welcke was
thinking of it too and that this was why he did not go out and also kept
coming down the stairs, as though accidentally, and passing through the
hall, with a glance at the glass pane of the letter-box. She went and
sat in the drawing-room, looking out for the postman or for an
errand-boy who might strike her as suspicious.... The morning passed,
Addie came home and her nervous apprehension never left her. The
afternoon passed and she remained indoors, wandering through the hall
and always, always gazing at that letter-box. Nothing appeared through
the little glass pane. And the whole day was one long apprehension, one
incessant oppression.

The next morning, Sunday, Constance again looked out of the window, but
she had now made up her mind that nothing would come and that there was
nothing in the _Dwarskijker_. She stayed at home that day too, as it was
raining hard, and she saw nobody. At half-past eight in the evening, she
went to Mamma van Lowe's in a cab, with Van der Welcke and Addie. And
Constance, the moment she entered, saw that there was a certain
excitement among the members of the family, all of whom were present.
Even Mamma seemed uneasy about something; and she at once said to
Constance:

"You were at Bertha's on Tuesday, child...."

"Yes...."

"Why didn't you ask me first, Connie?"

"Is a visit to Bertha such a very important matter, Mamma?"

"No, no," said the old woman, deprecatingly, "not that...."

But the old aunts arrived:

"How are you, Marie?"

"How are you, Dorine and Christine? So nice of you to come."

"What d'you say?" asked Auntie Rine.

"Marie says ... it's so nice of you to co-o-ome!" screamed Auntie Tine.

"Oh, ah! Did she say so? Yes, yes.... And who's that?..."

"That's Constance," said the old lady.

"Who?"

"That's Marie's daughter!" screamed Auntie Tine.