be cordial; she sent a
beautiful basket of flowers on the day of the contract; she gave a
handsome present, much more expensive than the one which she had sent
Emilie; and she showed great interest in the party and the dinner that
were to be given at the Witte Brug. She examined attentively the open
presses with the stacks of linen composing Floortje's trousseau--"Just
look at those chemises; and those table-cloths and napkins: there's
quality there, you can't beat it. Just feel them, only feel them!
Whereas those fripperies of Emilie's...!"--and listened attentively to
the endless paeans of self-glorification, spent herself in admiration,
was determined to flatter Adolphine and to make a good impression on her
sister. Because, during those days, she had conscientiously set herself
the task of winning over Adolphine, she swallowed the criticism that was
never wanting, little spiteful arrows shot off in between the paeans:

"How pale you're looking! Have you been using too much powder again, or
aren't you well?... What a pity that your boy is such an old gentleman,
Constance!... Tell me, Constance: your father- and mother-in-law were
not very nice to you, were they?... Constance, are those rings of yours
real?... Oh, really? Upon my word, I thought one of those stones was
paste...."

She swallowed it all, accepted the affront with a gentle smile, a word
of almost assenting reply: "Yes, Addie is rather old-fashioned.... Oh,
it was very difficult for Papa and Mamma van der Welcke.... You are
right, that stone is a little dull sometimes...."

She swallowed it, took it all so gently and so submissively that Addie,
when he happened to be present, looked up at his mother in surprise,
thinking her so different from the woman whom he knew, who blazed out
for the least thing at Papa and who always behaved towards himself as
the spoilt little mother who wanted to be petted and loved by her boy.
And the lad, in his small, bright, earnest, doughty soul, felt a sort of
amazement at that puzzle of a woman's soul that was his mother's:

"Are they all like that, so queer? Or is it only Mamma? And why is she
so forbearing towards Aunt Adolphine, when she can't bear the least
thing from Papa?"

This made him still more of a little man towards his mother, with
something protecting and condescending, because she was so weak and
irresolute and excitable, but also with very much that was affectionate,
because that strange womanliness pos