“Don’t be unreasonable, Constance.”
“What else did I want but to come and live here quietly at the Hague and see all of you again—my brothers, my sisters, your children—without ever dreaming of pushing myself? Who first spoke of pushing? You, you and your husband, Bertha!”
“Constance!”
“Who first spoke about the Court, Bertha? Adolphine.”
“Please, Constance, please . . .”
“I never thought, Bertha, of getting presented at Court; but now I shall, at the first occasion that offers.”
“Constance!” And Bertha wrung her hands. “It’s impossible!”
“Yes, it is possible; and I mean to do it.”
“Constance, how can you wish to defy people’s opinions like that!”
“Because of those very people!”
“I don’t understand you, Constance. All my friends . . .”
“Exactly, because of your friends.”
“All our family . . .”
“Because of our family.”
“Wait a bit, Constance. I don’t understand you. I don’t know what you mean to say. But just consider, just consider. You are not only making yourself impossible, but you are making us impossible: my husband, my house, our position, our children. . . .”
“Nonsense!”
