“Yes,” he answered—and his gloom seemed suddenly to brighten into a sort of rueful gladness, a yearning hope that all was not yet lost, that his dreams might be realized not by myself, but by another, by Addie—and he repeated her own, radiant words, “Yes, yes, he is left!”
The boy did not understand, looked at them both by turns and smiled enquiringly, receiving only their smiles in answer....
Chapter XX
For a long time, Constance had not been to Mamma van Lowe’s Sunday-evenings; and at first Mamma had not insisted. Now, however, one afternoon, she said, gently:
“Are you never coming again on a Sunday, Constance?”
She saw that her mother had suddenly become very nervous and she was sorry that she had not made an effort and overcome her reluctance to attend the family-gatherings after that terrible evening.
“Yes, Mamma,” she said, without hesitation, “I will come. This is Saturday: I will come to-morrow.”
The old woman leant back wearily in her chair, nodded her head up and down, as though she knew all sorts of sad things:
“It is so sad ... about Van Naghel,” she said. “Bertha is going through a lot of trouble.”