very little to me. What I wished for was brotherly and sisterly affection, cordial companionship. That is no longer possible: it was a foolish fancy of mine, which has gone forever. But, as I said, I shall speak to Van der Welcke."
They came out into the hall; the maid was waiting at the door. It was raining. Bertha's carriage was outside, had been sent to fetch her.
"Shall I drop you on my way, Constance?"
"No, thank you, Bertha; the fresh air will do me good; I'd rather walk."
And, as she walked, she thought:
"Oh, why did I go on like that to annoy them? And why didn't I welcome Bertha's visit at once? . . . It's all so small, so petty . . ."
And she shrugged her shoulders under her umbrella, laughed at herself a little, because she had shown herself so petty.
