very soon. And this is my mother, who has also come to see us this morning.”
She led Mrs. van der Welcke into the morning-room; and there stood old Mrs. van Lowe. And, when Constance closed the door, the two old ladies looked at each other and were both very nervous; and Constance felt like that too, trembling in her limbs. The old ladies looked at each other; and it was as though the two mothers, with that long, long look, asked each other’s forgiveness, after many long years, for their two children. Then Mrs. van Lowe approached and put out her two hands; and her words sounded very simple:
“I am so delighted to make your acquaintance, mevrouw. . . .”
Yes, they asked, without saying so, they asked each other’s forgiveness for the offence which their two children had committed, years and years ago, against each other and against themselves and against their lives. They asked each other’s forgiveness with the unspeakable gentleness of two very old women who still looked upon their children, whatever their age might be, as children, as their children. They asked each other’s forgiveness without words, with a glance and a pressure of the hands; and Constance understood so plainly what they were asking each other that she quietly left the room, feeling suddenly like a child, a tiny child that had behaved badly towards those two mothers. . . . Constance felt it so intensely that she went by herself, through the dining-room, into the conservatory and
