Dr. Adriaan Part 32

"Do you remember, do you remember?... I used to come and see you in this sort of rain and stay on ... and I could not bear that you should be unhappy with Uncle..... And, you know, I talked about it ... I said tactless things ... I asked you to try and be happy with Uncle ... Do you remember, do you remember?... And now, Auntie, it appears to me as if a great deal has been changed, though much has remained the same, and as if things had become much better ... between you and Uncle ...

between you and Uncle Henri...."

"Dear, we have grown older; and everything has become more mellow; and Uncle ... Uncle _is_ very good."

"Yes, he is good."

"He is just simply good."

"You see that now."

"Yes, I see it now, I admit it."

"Oh, I am so glad!... Yes, we have grown old."

"Not you."

"Yes, I too," she said, laughing softly. "I am young, but I am older than my years.... And, Auntie, tell me, do you remember before we went to Baarn, you came and called one day--we were just busy moving--and you sent for me and asked me ... you told me ... that Charles was fond of me ... and I refused him ... do you remember, do you remember?"

"I should think I did remember, darling!... And now you've got him after all; and it's all for the best, isn't it?"

"Yes, Auntie, we get on very well indeed.. and I have my children.... Do you remember, do you remember how you came to Baarn one day? I was very low-spirited; and you took me in your arms and pressed me to you and told me ... a fairy-tale, about the small souls ... which pa.s.sed through vanity ... to ecstasy. Do you remember?... And, when the ecstasy died out ... then the little soul found a grain ... a mere grain ... which was big enough, however, because the soul itself was so small. Do you remember, Auntie, do you remember?"

"Yes, dear, I remember.... It was just a few tiny words to console and cheer you a little ... And now the little soul has found the grain, hasn't it?"

"I think so, Auntie ... but under ... under all these small, everyday things ... a great deal of melancholy remains.... Perhaps it's wrong; perhaps it oughtn't to be so...."

"But, if there are things in one's past, if we have lived before, dear, then there is always a certain melancholy and we all have our share of it ... just because we feel deeply, very deeply perhaps, under our dark skies ... and because our feeling always remains ... and our melancholy too...."

"Perhaps so, Auntie.... And so it goes on and we drift on.... You see, there are good things in life.... Tell me, doesn't it occur to you that you have found...."

"What?"

"What you came to look for, years ago, in Holland ... after you had been abroad so long, Auntie, and felt so home-sick for your own country and for warmth ... the warmth of family-affection.... Tell me, Auntie, doesn't it occur to you that you have found it _now_: the country, our grey, dark country ... and everything that you used to long for?... Are we not all round you: even we, though we live some way off?... Are we not all, nearly all of us around you?"

"Yes, dear."

"And are you happy now?"

"Yes, dear."

"I hear something in your voice that contradicts your words. Tell me, what is it?"

"I'm frightened ... I'm frightened."

"And you have found so much, you have found everything! What ... what are you frightened of?"

"I'm frightened ... I feel so anxious...."

"What about?"

"About things ... that may happen."

"Where?"

"In our house."

"What can happen?"

"Things, sad things."

"Auntie, this is nonsense!"

"I can't help it, dear.... I'm frightened ... I'm frightened...."

"Tell me, Auntie, you don't like the house, do you?"

"It's not that."

"But the house oppresses you."

"No, it's not that, child.... Uncle and Addie like the house.... And I'm getting used to it...."

"Tell me, Auntie: they say...."

"What?"

"That the house is...."

She looked at Constance meaningly.

"Darling, darling, it's not that.... It's an old house.... We never talk of that...."

"But it may be just that that depresses you."

"It did at first ... but I'm getting used to it.... Addie is so very calm and communicates all his calmness to us.... What appears inexplicable ... is perhaps quite simple.... But that's not it.... I'm frightened ... frightened of...."

"Of what?"

"Of what I fear ... will happen."

"And what do you fear?"

"Things that I can't put into words ... some great sorrow."

"Why, Auntie? Why should it happen?... And then, if sorrow comes, won't you be strong?"

Constance suddenly gave a sob: