of little reserves of force that make them very powerful in life! . . . And, presently, when Van Vreeswijck is gone, she will rave at Van der Welcke if he so much as blows his nose; and all her little reserve-forces will have vanished; and she will be left without the smallest self-control. . . . Still, in any case, she is most charming; and I have had a capital dinner and am feeling very pleasant. . . .”
The bell rang and, through the open door leading to the hall, Constance and Paul heard voices at the front-door:
“That’s Adolphine’s voice!” said Constance.
“And Carolientje’s,” said Paul. . . .
“Oh, then I won’t stay!” they heard Adolphine say, loudly, shrilly.
Constance rose from her chair. She thought it a bore that Adolphine should call just in this evening, but she was bent upon never allowing Adolphine to see that she was unwelcome:
“Excuse me, Mr. van Vreeswijck, for a moment. I hear my sister. . . .”
She went out into the passage:
“How are you, Adolphine?”
“How are you, Constance?” said Adolphine.
She knew that Constance was giving a little dinner that evening and she had come prying on purpose, though she pretended to know nothing:
“I just looked in,” she said, “as I was passing with Carolientje; I saw a light in your windows and thought you must be at home. But your servant says that you’re having a dinner-party!” said Adol-
