cause he would certainly refuse. And without a doubt he heard within himself what she hesitated to ask him, for he said, gently:
“I shall not go; but give him many good wishes, from his father.”
Then, stiffly and with difficulty, he bent his tall figure and his ivory forehead, went to her and kissed her on the brow. And she took his gnarled hand and pressed it gently. Then he went upstairs and she rang the bell.
The butler entered.
“Piet,” she said, hesitatingly and shyly, and she blushed before the butler. “I am going to-morrow to the Hague, to Mr. Henri. It’s his birthday. And I should like you to take me there.”
The man looked up in surprise, smiled:
“Very well, ma’am, as you please.”
And, as she went up the stairs, she tried to hold herself more erect; she felt younger. . . .
