The Later Life

der Welcke himself shrugged his shoulders over the whole business; but Addie was pleased, started going for walks again with Frans and spoke to Karel again at the grammar-school, though he di

me in, Au

se, Mari

ke to: I'm

nse, c

threw herself on her knees beside

, I am so gla

hy

right again.... It was so dreadful; it kept me from sleeping. I kept on thinking about it.

rtainly,

may I come and see you ... and will you ask me to dinne

child, putting her head against C

I love coming to you, I simply love it. I should

enly burst into tears, sobbing out her words so excitedly that

een.... But I didn't dare.... I was afraid Papa would b

s all rig

ut the door opened and

you do

when Marianne called hi

. Constance, did I leav

igaro?

his paper and

een telling Auntie, I'm so glad, I'm

I, Ma

and telling them about Nice, while Marianne talked about Emilie and Van Raven and how they were not getting on very well toget

"I see nothing but unhappy marriage

s which she ought not to say. Van der Welcke looked at her, smiling. To make up for her

u once more!... I must be off presently

dine," said

d like to stop on and she did not know what to

ay to dinner

beamed

ntie! Mamma knows I'm her

in of it all; but she was determined to control herself, to behave naturally

le cloud, would vanish at once, leaving not even a shadow behind it. But the cloud had come drifting again and again, brought by a gesture, a glance, a how-do-you-do or good-bye, an appointment for a bicycle ride. On such occasions, the brothers had always gone too-so had Addie-and there had neve

ing. I am mistaken. I am imagini

s standing at the door of Constance' drawing-room; her unconcealed delight at being able to come back to this house; the almost unnatural joy with which she had sobbed at Constance' knee ... until Van der Welcke came in, after doubtless recognizing the sound of her voice in his little smoking-room, as transpare

thing; and I am imagining s

re before. And, while she talked about Nice, it struck her that Van der Welcke was still there ... that he was staying on in her drawing-room, a thing whic

re is nothing, or at most a little mutual a

sy amid her wondering doubts. Yes, it was all gone, any love, passion, sentiment that she had ever entertained for He

" she thought, "and

ke his father's, were more serious, had an older look.... And, at the sight of that youthfulness, she thought herself old, even though she was now showing Marianne the pretty photograph from Nice.... Yes, she felt old; and she was hardly surprised-if it was so, if she was not mistaken-at that

hanged a more affectionate word, a pressure of the hand, a glance? Had they already

each other; no, they have not even

ent.... She looked out with her smile at the pelting rain, nestled deeper in her chair, luxuriously, like a kitten, then suddenly jumped up, poured out a cup of tea for Constance and herself; and, when Van der Welcke begged his wife's leave to smoke a cigarette, she sprang up again, struck a match, held the light to him, with a fragile grace of gesture like a little statue. Her pale-brown eyes, w

ove: jealousy of his youth. She suddenly looked back fifteen years and felt herself grown old, felt him remaining young. Life, real life, for which she sometimes had a vague yearn

ssion of misery and anger;

I am imagining all manner o

le. Constance was silent, but the others were cheerful. And, when, after tea had been served, th

or me to go,

die see y

said Van der Welcke. "I

ce said

anne, "I am so glad tha

Constance p

isance for you to go

d a bicycle

y we had our

ining; we shall

elf, softly opened a window, looked out into the damp winter night. She saw them go towards the Bankastraat. The

e is nothing. Oh, it