The girls stood round her: Gerdy, looking very handsome; Adeletje, weak and pale; and Marietje, tall, lank and plain.
"And then you've got ... Emilie ... and Adeline," said Adolphine, counting them shyly.
"Yes," said Constance. "We all keep together now.... Children, Aunt Adolphine's staying to lunch."
Something in her words seemed to ask the girls to leave her alone with Adolphine. In the conservatory, the old woman sat gazing up at the clouds, which came sailing along big and grey, and she heard nothing, paid no attention.
"Adolphine," said Constance, when they were alone once more, "we have a moment before lunch. Come upstairs to my room, then we sha'n't be disturbed."
She put out her hand. Adolphine took it; and Constance led her sister almost mechanically through the passages and up the stairs.
"It's a gloomy house," said Adolphine, with a shiver at the sight of the oak doors.
"Yes, it is rather gloomy.... Fortunately, it's large; there's plenty of space."
"Really?" asked Adolphine, growing interested. "Have you many rooms?"
"Oh, a great many!... When the old man was alive, they were all empty. Now they are nearly all full."