"Granny, Mamma understood. I should be so glad, Granny, if you and Papa could also understand...."
But Van der Welcke's jealousy of Constance stabbed ruthlessly at his heart: he rose and moved to the card-table.
"Mamma understood, Addie?" the old lady repeated, resentfully. "Oh, Mamma knows that she can't refuse you anything, you see. Papa too; and now he's upset, poor Papa.... Our illusions become fewer and fewer, Addie, as we grow older; and therefore it's so terribly sad, dear, when we have to lose the very last of them. We had all placed our hopes in you, my boy."
"But, even if I don't go in for the diplomatic service, Granny, that's no reason why I...."
The old woman raised her hand almost angrily, imposing silence upon him:
"Diplomacy is the finest profession in the world," she said, sharply. "There's nothing above it.... It's just those new ideas, dear, which Granny can't keep up with and which make her so sad, because she doesn't understand them...."
"Granny, I can't bear to see you crying like this."
He sat down beside her, took her hand, looked into her eyes. She mistook his gentleness:
"Won't you think it over, Addie?" she asked, softly and coaxingly:
"No, Granny," he said, in a calm, decided tone. "I can't do that."