rt to her, Dorine, after any
fashion. Yes, pretty women were always at an advantage, even with their
own brothers. All she, Dorine, was good for was to trot about and run
errands for the brothers and sisters. And yet it was very strange, but,
since Bertha and Adolphine had been out of town and Dorine went oftener
to Adeline's, she would ask of her own accord, "Adelientje, I'm going
into town this afternoon: is there anything I can do for you?" and, when
Adeline answered, "It's very sweet of you, Dorine, but really, there's
nothing I want," Dorine would reply, "Well, just think again: I have to
go into town, you see;" and then, if Adeline said, "Well, Dorine, if
you're going in any case, would you look in at Schroeder's for some
pinafores for Adeletje and at Moeller and Thijs' for shoes: they all want
shoes," Dorine would go off at a trot and hurry, with her wide-legged,
shuffling gait, to Schroeder's and to Moeller and Thijs', muttering to
herself:

"When it's not Bertha or Adolphine, it's Adeline who manages to make use
of me!"

"I think Gerrit a most companionable brother," said Constance, one
evening, while Paul sat taking tea with her.

"Yes, he's a good sort, but he's queer."

"But why queer, Paul? You're always saying that and I have never taken
any notice of it. Why is Gerrit queerer than Ernst or yourself?"

"Well, Ernst isn't normal either and I ... only just."

"But Gerrit, surely, is normal!"

"Perhaps. Perhaps he is. But sometimes I fancy he's not."

"But what does he do, what is there about him that's strange?" asked
Constance, indignantly, like a true Van Lowe, defending her brother as
soon as that brother was attacked.

"Gerrit has been married nine years. Formerly, he was a very lugubrious
gentleman."

"Gerrit lugubrious!" Constance laughed heartily. "My dear Paul, your
knowledge of human nature is deserting you. Gerrit, a healthy fellow,
strong as a horse, an excellent officer, a jolly brother, a first-rate
father with all his fair-haired little children: Gerrit lugubrious!
Where do you get that idea from? Oh, Paul, sometimes, from sheer love of
paradox, you say such very improbable things!"

"You did not know Gerrit as he was, Constance."

"I knew him as a boy of fourteen, when we used to play in the river at
Buitenzorg. Gerrit is still always flying into ecstasies about that time
and my little bare feet! Then I knew Gerrit as a cadet and as a young
subaltern, twenty years ago; and he wa