who those two are?"

"No, Gerrit. Van Naghel, do you know who those two people are: that
stout gentleman and that tall lady?"

"Yes, Mamma: it's Bruys and his wife. He's the editor of the
_Fonograaf:_ very respectable people, Mamma...."

"My dear Van Naghel!..."

Utterly perplexed, the old lady passed on, leaning on Van Naghel's
arm....

Constance had overheard the comments of the family upon Adolphine's
friends. She herself, newcomer that she now was in Hague society, was
not so greatly struck by the fact that Adolphine's guests consisted of
all sorts of dissimilar elements: she had sometimes at Rome had to
suffer incongruous elements at her big receptions and she had often
found, abroad, that it was possible for witty, polished, cultured people
to exist, even though they did not belong to her set. Then again she
considered that, at a wedding-party, which was attended by relations'
relations and friends' friends, it was almost inevitable that the guests
were sometimes entirely unknown to one another: wasn't it the same at
Bertha's party? Yes, Bertha had given two evening-parties, in order to
separate the elements; but hadn't the family found fault with this? Was
there nothing but fault-finding and criticizing in the family; and did
none think right what another did? Gerrit and Paul were now sitting
beside her; and she heard them talking, condemning, criticizing,
ridiculing.

"Poor, dear Mother: she's quite bewildered!"

"I say, Paul, are you allowing yourself to be introduced to Dijkerhof's
uncles and aunts?"

"I'm not going to be introduced to another soul," said Paul, wearily
blinking his eyes. "I'm here to make studies. The only way to amuse
yourself in a Noah's ark like this party of Adolphine's is to make
studies of the animal side of mankind. Look at Mrs. Bruys eating her
cake with an almost animal satisfaction. Look at that uncle of
Dijkerhof's dancing with Van Saetzema's cousin: it's almost disgusting."

"Paul," said Constance, "I've known you wittier than you are to-night."

"My dear sister, I feel myself growing dull here. The figures and
colours swarm before my eyes so hideously as really to cause me physical
pain. My God, the charm of our modern life, the charm at an
evening-party of Adolphine's: where is it, where is it?"

"It's gone, it's gone!" Gerrit noisily declaimed. "Adolphine's charm is
gone!"

"I don't think either of you at all nice!" Constance broke in,
irritably. "Tell me, my de