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"Oh, I see! Good-evening, Emilietje."
A smile lit up gloomy features here and there. The aunts never knew any one properly, were always a little muddled among all those nephews and nieces of a later generation. And, as a rule, n.o.body troubled for more than a moment to remind them of the real names. With the stubbornness of extremely old women, they continued to cling to their confusion of generations, persons and names.
Constance, sitting beside Paul, watched Bertha. In an importunate obsession to immerse herself in what she, at that moment, called her own disgrace--especially as that disgrace had been stamped in print--she had done nothing but ask Paul:
"Let me read it!"
And Paul had done nothing but say:
"No, Constance, don't read it!"
Constance now saw, by the faces of Van Naghel, Bertha and Marianne, that they knew about it and had read it. All three said how-do-you-do to her in a very cold tone.
Van Naghel was at once asked by Mamma to make up one of the tables. The old woman, like Constance, had read nothing, knew nothing certain; but a word seized here and there had alarmed her, had worried her; and she felt very unhappy, as if on the verge of tears. She noticed in her children, as it were for the first time, something strange and hard, in the nervous excitement of that evening, something, it is true, which at once hushed and calmed down when she approached, but which left a strained feeling behind it, a lack of harmony which she did not understand. Was it because of that scurrilous paper? Or did they disapprove of Constance' going to Bertha's on her day? The old woman did not know; but never had a Sunday evening pa.s.sed with such difficulty; and yet what was it all about? An article, a visit.... An article, a visit.... She endeavoured, despairingly, to look upon these things as small, as meaningless, as nothing; but it was no use: the question of the visit was very important, an undoubted blunder on Constance' part; and the article--Heavens, the article!--was, though she herself had not read it, a disgrace, raking up the scandal of years ago which soiled and defiled all her children, all, all her nearest and dearest. No, these things were not insignificant: they were great and important things in their lives. What, what could be more important than what might happen through that visit to Bertha and--Heavens!--a scurrilous article?...
Bertha refused to play, declared that she hadn't the head for it. And, though she had at first deliberately avoided Constance, she now seemed constantly, almost fatally, to be moving nearer her, restlessly, unable to keep her seat, amid the excitement which once more slowly took hold of them all, after their first attempt at calmness from respect for their brother-in-law, the cabinet-minister. But Constance went on talking to Paul and, in her turn, avoided her sister's glances; until, at last, Bertha, as though unable to keep it in any longer, sat down on a chair beside her and said:
"Constance...."
"Well?"
"Van Naghel is...."
"Van Naghel is what?"
"Van Naghel is ... very much put out. I can't understand how he can play bridge."
"What is he put out about?"
"About you."
"About me?"
"Yes, about you."
"I'm sorry, Bertha!" said Constance, coolly. "What have I done wrong?"
"Of course, it's not your fault, about those articles. But the first was exceedingly unpleasant for Van Naghel...."
"And the second I haven't read," said Constance, coldly.
"No," Paul broke in, "I advised Constance not to read it."
"And I don't mean to read it: it has ceased to interest me. Is Van Naghel put out by that article about me?"
"He's put out by the visit...."
"The visit...?"
"The visit you paid me, on Tuesday."
"Is Van Naghel put out by a visit which I paid you on Tuesday?" asked Constance, very contemptuously, in surprise.
"You ought not to have come on my day."
"I ought not to have...?"
"Don't be angry, Constance: I have had such a scene with my husband as it is! Don't be angry, for Heaven's sake! Don't misunderstand me. I am full of sympathy for you: you are my sister and I am fond of you; but that doesn't alter the fact that you were wrong, that you ought not to have come on my day. Why did you do it? I am so glad to see you at any other time. But just on an at-home day, when you risked meeting, well, just the people whom you did meet: Mrs. van Eilenburgh, the Van den Heuvel Steyns! Why did you do it? What made you do it?"
"So I am not fit to appear at my sister's at-home day?"
"Please, Constance, don't take it like that. I am not unsympathetic. We even had a talk once...."
Constance laughed aloud:
"Once!" she said. "Once!"
"Life is very busy, Constance. But I am always glad to see you. Only, only...."
"Only not on your days."
"It's not my fault."
"No, it's mine."
"Mrs. van Eilenburgh is a niece of...."
"De Staffelaer."
It was the first time that his name had been mentioned between them.
"The Van den Heuvel Steyns are...."
"His friends."
"So, Constance, you understand for yourself...."
"I told you on Tuesday, Bertha, I am going to make my fifteen years count."
"Constance, don't attempt impossibilities."
"What's an impossibility?"
"Don't think only of yourself. Think of us. Think of Van Naghel, of his position. You make it impossible for him, if you insist on...."
"Coming to your at-home days....?"
"For goodness' sake, Constance, don't be angry. It is impossible."