formalities; the legation; the journey back: oh, she was dead-tired, dead-tired! . . . Oh, that coffin, that coffin ! . . . And in the middle of it all a letter from Addie: Uncle Gerrit seriously ill; the children ordered out of the house; he was taking Gerdy and Constant and giving them his room: he was sure Mamma would approve. . . . Oh, how dead-tired, how dead-tired she was! . . .
"Auntie," said Constant, "Truitje has been so kind: she made us a lovely rice-pudding. . . ."
"But we'd rather be at home!" said Gerdy.
And the children suddenly began to cry. Constance took them in her arms, pressed them to her:
"You would be just a little in Mamma's way," she said, with a dead voice. "Mamma must look after Papa. . . ."
And she dropped almost fainting into a chair.
"Aunt Constance!" Emilie sobbed. "Aunt Constance, let me . . . let me . . . stay with you! . . . Let me stay with you! . . . Where . . . where could I go?"
She sobbed wildly, huddled on the floor against Constance' knees. The children were also crying. Constance had put one arm round Emilie and held the children in the other. It was very gloomy out of doors. Indoors, life's tragedy lay heavy upon them.
