Mrs. van Lowe was surprised:
“My child!” she exclaimed, trembling. “My child! Are you back? Are you back again? What a long time you’ve been abroad!”
“I’ve enjoyed myself immensely. How d’ye do, Bertha? How d’ye do, Adolphine?”
She did not shake hands, but just nodded to them, almost cordially, because of her mother, who looked anxiously at her three daughters. Bertha and Adolphine nodded back. Carelessly and easily, she took the lead in the conversation and talked about Nice. She tried to talk naturally, without bragging; but in spite of herself there was a note of triumph in her voice:
“Yes, I felt I wanted to go abroad a bit.... Not nice of me to run away without saying good-bye, was it, Mamma dear? Well, you see, Constance sometimes behaves differently from other people.... I had a very pleasant time at Nice: full season, lovely weather.”
“Weren’t you lonely?”
“No, for on the very first day I met some of our Rome friends at the hotel....”
She felt that Bertha started, blinked her eyes, disapproved of her for daring to speak of Rome. And she revelled in doing so, casually and airily, thought it delicious to dazzle Adolphine with a list of her social triumphs, very naturally described:
“People we used to know in Rome: Comte and Comtesse d’Azigny. He was French ambassador in those days. They recognized me at once and were very kind; and through the introduction I went to a glorious ball at the Duchesse de Rivoli’s. And, Mummy, here’s a portrait of your daughter in her ball-dress.”
She showed the photograph, enjoyed giving the almost too-well-executed portrait to Mamma, not to her sisters, while letting them see it. She described her dress, described the ball, bragging a little this time, saying that, after all, parties abroad were always much grander than that “seeing a few friends” in Holland, addressing all her remarks to Mamma and, in words just tinged with ostentation, displaying no small scorn for Bertha’s dinners and Adolphine’s “little evenings:”