She was happy and she was not unthankful. She was even thankful that
Otto was returning--although the reason, his wife's illness, was a sad
one--because she would see her great-grandchildren. They were her first;
she felt a new joy because of them, an unknown emotion. She had felt
something like it when Otto himself was born, her first grandchild; but
now that feeling was almost more intense, perhaps because it was a
fourth generation, a continuation of the family, even though they were
Van Naghels and not Van Lowes. She was a woman: she did not care so much
about the name. Bertha was her daughter, Otto her grandson, his children
her grandchildren. She traced them back in this way to herself and the
sound of the name mattered less to her. They were her children, her
grandchildren, her great-grandchildren; and she loved them all, with one
great love, with a clannish love. That she lived alone in her big house
was because she was old and could bear bustle only when it was expected,
when she could prepare for it. The Sunday evenings were bustling, but
they did not tire her. But to have Paul or Dorine living with her, to be
for ever hearing them going in and out would have worked on her nerves.
She wandered daily through all the rooms of the big house to see if
everything was tidy and in its place. Dorine was slovenly; and Paul was
anything but easy to get on with; and Ernst, with his collection of
curiosities, she would never be able to have with her, because she was
afraid of all the microbes that hang about those old things. But
nevertheless she loved them all and she was glad that they lived at the
Hague and that she saw them regularly. She was like that and no
otherwise.

And she now came every day to Bertha's, waiting for Otto and his
children, until Constance grew jealous and reproached her, saying that
she never came to her new house near the Woods.

CHAPTER XV

The Van Naghels gave an evening-party at the Oude Doelen Hotel, two days
subsequent to the signing of the marriage-contract between Emilie and
Van Raven: a dinner, for relations and intimate friends, of nearly a
hundred covers. After that, the young people were to do some
theatricals; and, after that, there was a dance. Dinner was over; and
Adolphine asked Uncle Ruyvenaer:

"Were you at their dinner-party two nights ago?"

"What dinner-party?"

"The day before yesterday, after the contract. They gave a dinner at
their house. About sixty pe