"Yes, Mamma, I've taken Ernst down, with Dr. van der Ouwe and Dr. Reeuws. He was quite quiet. We had reserved a coupé-compartment; and he travelled down with us very nicely. He did not speak; and he held my hand the whole time. He pities me, I don't know why. . . . Mamma, don't cry: he's really quiet; and he is very comfortable there. He has a pleasant room, with a bright outlook; Dr. van der Heuvel and his wife are kind, homely people. He will not be by himself: he has his meals with the other patients. It is hard on him to have to do without his books and curios. He misses his books particularly; but the doctor does not want him to read. And he must walk . . ."
"But walk, Connie, walk? Alone? How can he walk? All alone, on that enormous heath? He'll lose his way, he's not responsible, he'll step into a ditch and be drowned!"
"No, Mamma, we shall look after him."
"How do you mean, child?"
"It will soon be Addie's holidays: Addie and I are going to Nunspeet and we shall be with Ernst."
"Oh, how kind of you, Connie! . . . But I shall miss you."
"I shall come and see you regularly, Mamma: Nunspeet is not far."
"Oh, child, child, what should I do without you? Thank God, dear, that you returned to us at last!
