hed
must choose between us. You are not married; there is no sin in
trying to win her from you. Look well after her. I mean to use
every expedient."

Then he would be warned, and she would know what alternative lay
before her.

His knuckles cracked when he clenched his fists again. How Maurits
would laugh at his old uncle when he stepped forward and explained
that! And what would be the good of it? Would he frighten her, so
that he would not even be allowed to help them in the future?

But how will it go now when she approaches to say good-bye to him?
He almost screams to her to take care, to keep three paces away
from him.

He remains at the window and turns his back on them all, while they
are busy with their wraps and their luncheon-basket. Will they
never be ready to go? He has already lived it through a thousand
times. He has taken her hand, kissed her, helped her into the
chaise. He has done it so many times that he believes she is
already gone.

He has also wished her happiness. Happiness--Can she be happy with
Maurits? She has not looked happy this morning. Oh yes, certainly
she has. She wept with joy.

While he is standing there Maurits suddenly says to Anne-Marie:
"What a dunce I am! I am quite forgetting to speak to Uncle about
father's shares."

"I think it would be best if you did not," Downie answers. "Perhaps
it is not right."

"Nonsense, Anne-Marie. The shares do not pay anything just now. But
who knows if they will not be better some day? And besides, what
does it matter to Uncle? Such a little thing--"

She interrupts with unusual eagerness, almost anxiously. "I beg of
you, Maurits, do not do it. Give in to me this once."

He looks at her, a little offended. "This once!--as if I were a
tyrant over you. No, do you see. I cannot; just for that word I
think that I ought not to yield."

"Do not cling to a word, Maurits. This means more than polite
phrases. I think it is not well of you to wish to cheat Uncle now
when he has been so good to us."

"Be quiet, Anne-Marie, be quiet! What do you understand of
business?" His whole manner is now irritatingly calm and superior.
He looks at her as a schoolmaster looks at a good pupil who is
making a fool of himself at his examination.

"That you do not at all understand what is at stake!" she cries.
And she strikes out despairingly with her hands.

"I really must talk to Uncle now," says Maurits, "if for nothing
else, to show him that there is