She’s very happy here; Papa and Mamma and all the rest are fond of her; we had such a nice life, even if it was a bit overdone and I don’t care for that everlasting going out; but now it’s all over, all over! I sat crying with Henri yesterday; and at the party we had to be gay; and every one thought that he was gay, the gay undergraduate; and the poor boy was miserable; and yesterday I had to appear in that tableau; and Floortje was so horrid and spiteful; and Henri and Frans had a dialogue to do; and the poor boy couldn’t speak his words; and I ask you, Auntie, why all this unhappiness, when we were so happy together?”
She clenched her fists and, through her sobs, suddenly began to laugh aloud:
“Oh, Auntie! . . . Ha, ha! . . . Oh, Auntie! . . . Don’t mind what I say! I am mad, I am mad, but it’s they who are driving me mad: Mamma, the boys, the servants, the baboe, Frances and the children! It’s one great merry-go-round! Ha, ha! . . . Did you ever see such an everlasting rush as we have in this house?”
She was now sobbing and laughing together; and suddenly she remembered that she had let herself go too much with a strange aunt and that Mamma did not like these spontaneous confidences to strangers; and, because she wanted to recover herself, she suddenly became rather dignified and asked:
“Did you enjoy yourself fairly yesterday, Aunt Constance?”
