“Everything here is on such a small scale,” she continued. “There, the first thing you see is a suite of twelve rooms, all with electric light ... or, better still, all lit up with wax-candles.... Yes, our little social efforts at the Hague cut a very poor figure beside it.”
She gave a contemptuous little laugh to annoy her sisters, while Mamma, always interested in the doings of the great, did not notice the contempt and was glad enough to see that the sisters behaved as usual to one another. And now Constance went on to say that everything had gone on so well at home, that Truitje had looked after everything, even though Constance had gone away indefinitely, an unprecedented thing, so unlike a Dutch housewife! Then she turned to her sisters with an indifferent phrase or two; and they answered her almost cordially, out of respect for Mamma....
Adolphine was the first to leave, exasperated by Constance’ insufferable tone, by all that talk about Nice, all those counts and dukes whom Constance had mentioned; and, when Constance said good-bye, Bertha also left and they went down the stairs together.
“Constance,” said Bertha, “can I speak to you a minute in the cloak-room?”
Constance looked up haughtily, surprised; but she did not like to refuse. They went into the little cloak-room.
“Constance,” said Bertha, “I do so want to say that I am sorry for what happened between us. Really, it pained me very much. And I want to tell you also that Van Naghel greatly appreciated Van der Welcke’s writing to him to apologize. He has written to Van der Welcke to say so. But we should both like to call on you one day, to show you how glad we should be to come back to the old terms once more.”
“Bertha,” said Constance, a little impatiently and wearily, “I am prepared to receive your visit, but I should really like to know what is the good of it and why you suggest it. Do let us have some sincerity ... when there is no occasion for hypocrisy. Sometimes one has to be insincere ... but there is no need for that between us now. We both know that our mutual sympathy, if it ever existed, is dead. We never meet except at Mamma’s and we don’t let her see our estrangement. Apart from that, it seems to me that things are over between us.”
“So you would rather that Van Naghel and I did not come?”
“It’s not for me to decide, Bertha: I shall speak about it to Van der Welcke and write you a line.”
“Is that cold answer all you have to say to me, Constance?”