a large fortune, and it was Henri's money now, of course, but it was first and foremost the old man's money! . . . The curtains in the drawing-room were sadly faded, but she would not buy new, though Van der Welcke himself had begged her at least to buy some for the front room. Her everyday table was very simple, simpler than she had ever been accustomed to. And this gave her the remorse that she was feeding Henri, now that he was growing older, more simply than she had in his younger days. And she urged him daily to buy a motor-car. . . .
He was sensible, refused to do anything of the kind. Buying the "sewing-machine," well, yes, that was one big initial outlay . . . but the most expensive part of it was the upkeep of it, the chauffeur, the excursions. He feared that, once he possessed the "machine," it would become a very costly joke. . . . And all those ten years, though he had often thought of a car, he had never bought the old sewing-machine. Then Constance felt so violently self-reproachful, at using Henri's money for her brother's children, that she discussed it with Addie. Those discussions about the motor had recurred regularly every year. Addie thought that Papa was right, that it was not the initial outlay that was so burdensome, but all the further expenses. Then again motor-cars were being so much improved yearly that, when once Papa had caught the fever, he would get rid of his sewing-machine yearly to buy a new and more modern one. No, it would be a very expensive story. . . . And Van der Welcke had never bought his sewing-machine, had barely, once in a way, hired one. . . . Constance felt a lasting self-reproach because of it. . . .
They were rich now; and yet . . . what was their fortune, with so many burdens! Burdens,
