ot
know you thought like that; I myself have sometimes thought so, even
though my life was not so busy as yours. But, in Brussels, I too
sometimes thought, 'Well, yes, I am living for Addie: but, if he were
not here, he would not have his own troubles in the future; and I should
not need to go on living!'"

"And perhaps there are hundreds who think like that, in our class."

"Isn't it the same in every class?"

"Perhaps life is hopeless for everybody. And yet, when I am rested,
to-morrow or the day after, and when my head-ache is gone, I shall start
all this work over again."

They were silent, hand in hand; for a moment they had found each other
again, were like two sisters. Then Bertha went on:

"When I lie here like this, with my head-aches, I always think of my
children.... Yes, it was nice of you to come, Connie. Was Addie out with
Henri, did you say? Isn't it morbid of Henri to be so melancholy? But my
children are so dependent on one another, almost more than on their
parents. Otto and Louise are always together; and then Frances is
jealous. The two boys at Leiden are always together; and Henri was
always with his sisters too; and Marianne misses Emilie. And still,
notwithstanding that feeling for one another, notwithstanding that we do
everything for them, notwithstanding that all our thoughts are for them,
notwithstanding all we spend on them and for them, my children are not
happy. Not one of them has received--what shall I say?--the gift of
happiness. It is strange; it is as if life lay heavy upon all of them
and as if they were too small, too weak to bear the burden of it. Tell
me, Constance, what is your boy like?"

"I don't think he is like that."

"But then he is old for his years, isn't he?"

"Yes, but he is very sensible."

"Yes, he is a little man."

"He is strong, in mind as well as in body. I was going to say that he is
just as though he were not little. He works entirely to please himself.
And he is a comfort, to both of us. He is a strange child. He is not a
child."

"And what is he going to be?"

"He will probably go into the diplomatic service."

She spoke the words and saw, in a flash, before her eyes, Rome, De
Staffelaer, all her vain past. And, in that half-darkened room, in that
hour of absolute sincerity, she asked herself whether that career would
spell happiness for her son.

"Will Van der Welcke like that?..."

"Yes, but Addie must decide for himself. We shall not forc