away with De Staffelaer. . . . Since then . . . since then, she had never been back! Since then, her father had died! Since then, she had only twice seen her dear mother, for a moment, at Brussels. Oh, since then! . . . Since then, all her brothers and sisters had become strangers to her; and she herself had been a stranger, never in Holland, always abroad, always an alien. . . . Now . . . now she was back! Was it possible? Was it a dream? . . .
Her brother-in-law, Van Naghel, the cabinet-minister, came up to her:
“We are very glad to see you at the Hague, Constance.”
“Thank you, Van Naghel.”
“And shall we soon be making Van der Welcke’s acquaintance?”
There was something in his words as though he were forcing the situation, for Mamma van Lowe’s sake.
“He has some business to settle in Brussels. He will be here in a week.”
It was very difficult to keep up the conversation; and he was silent.
“So one of your girl’s is engaged?” she asked, tactfully diverting the talk from herself.
“Yes, Emilie, the second. Emilie!”
He beckoned to his daughter. Emilie came up, bringing Van Raven with her:
“May I introduce Mr. van Raven, Aunt Constance?”
