en," said Constance, gently. "Come, I've
seen you now, Bertha, and perhaps it's better that I should go and let
you rest."

And she stooped again to kiss Bertha good-bye. But Bertha caught her by
the hand:

"Do stay with me!" she said, hesitatingly.

"I am really afraid of disturbing you."

"No, please stay!" said Bertha. "I think it's nice of you to have come.
You mustn't think me indifferent; but what's the use of talking? If one
doesn't talk, everything is so much simpler. Words always mean so
much.... Don't think me cold, Constance. I'm like that, you see: I never
talk, to anybody. I prefer to withdraw into myself, when there's
anything the matter with me. But there's nothing wrong now, I'm only a
little tired.... Of course, I feel rather sad at Emilie's going. But we
must hope that she will be happy. Eduard is not a bad fellow; and why
should Emilie have accepted him, if she didn't care for him?... Do stay
and talk to me. Tell me about yourself. It is the first time that we
have had a real talk...."

"For years."

"Yes, for years. And much has happened, Constance; but it all belongs to
the past now."

"Yes, but the past remains so long. Properly speaking, it never goes, it
is always the past."

"Constance, it is twenty years since we saw each other."

"Twenty years. Papa has been dead fourteen years. It was my fault that
he died."

"No, Constance."

"Yes, it was. You needn't mind: it was my fault. I know you all think so
and I feel it myself. It was my fault. I can never forget that. I can
never forgive myself that."

"Hush, Constance. Really, it's such a long time, such a very long time
ago."

"But it will always remain ... a murder."

"You have the future before you now. There's your son...."

"Yes, there's my son. But it has come to this, that I am not living for
him, but he for me."

"That is wrong."

"Yes, it's wrong. And my whole life is wrong, everything has gone wrong
in my life. Oh, Bertha, I can't tell you how I yearned for Holland and
for you all, how I yearned to be no longer alone, alone with my boy!
Now, perhaps it will be different: among all of you, I feel at home once
more. At home: do you know what that means? If I had remained away,
things would never have come right. Now perhaps I can still hope: I
really don't know...."

"Alone with your boy? Why don't you speak of your husband?"

"No, not my husband."

"Why not?"

"No, no. We only endure each other, for Addie's s