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"What is?"
"For you to...."
"What?"
"To force the position. When Mamma spoke to us, eight months ago, about you coming to the Hague, Van Naghel at once said that our house was open to you and your husband, but that you must not push and a.s.sert yourselves."
"So that was the condition?"
"It was not a condition, Constance: it was merely advice, given in your own interest...."
"And in yours."
"Very well, in ours too. People come to my days, just because of my husband's position and connections, people who are relations and friends of De Staffelaer's, people who have never forgiven you and never will.
Can't you see that for yourself, Constance? Must I explain it to you?"
"Bertha, I never had any desire to push or a.s.sert myself."
"Then what makes you?"
"What makes me?" And it was as though Constance was searching for the answer. "What but you, all of you?"
"Don't be unreasonable, Constance."
"What else did I want but to come and live here quietly at the Hague and see all of you again--my brothers, my sisters, your children--without ever dreaming of pus.h.i.+ng myself? Who first spoke of pus.h.i.+ng? You, you and your husband, Bertha!"
"Constance!"
"Who first spoke about the Court, Bertha? Adolphine."
"Please, Constance, please...."
"I never thought, Bertha, of getting presented at Court; but now I shall, at the first occasion that offers."
"Constance!" And Bertha wrung her hands. "It's impossible!"
"Yes, it _is_ possible; and I mean to do it."
"Constance, how can you wish to defy people's opinions like that!"
"Because of those very people!"
"I don't understand you, Constance. All my friends...."
"Exactly, because of your friends."
"All our family...."
"Because of our family."
"Wait a bit, Constance. I don't understand you. I don't know what you mean to say. But just consider, just consider. You are not only making yourself impossible, but you are making us impossible: my husband, my house, our position, our children...."
"Nonsense!"
"It's not nonsense, Constance. Do you want to make me regret that we yielded to Mamma's wish to have you here again, near her, among us all?"
"No, Bertha, but I can no longer remain--for the sake of people, for the sake of the family--in the same obscure corner in which I remained for years in Brussels, where I was disowned by all of you as a disgrace. I can't do it, Bertha, I can't do it. I could do it, as far as I am concerned; but I can't, because of my son."
"He is a child still."
"He is growing older every day. I see, Bertha, that I ought either to have stayed away from you all, without indulging my modest yearnings and simple wishes, or else to have rehabilitated myself at once, in the eyes of all the Hague."
"Constance...."
"But it's not too late. It's not too late to repair my mistake. I can still take steps towards my rehabilitation. And I ask, I demand that rehabilitation, of you, Bertha, in particular."
"Of me?"
"Yes, Bertha, of you in particular. Just because you are the sister whose husband not only occupies a high position, but also possesses more connections than any of us in the set that used to be our father's. Just for that reason, Bertha, I demand my rehabilitation of you. If I'm not to be allowed to live quietly, in a corner, at the Hague, surrounded by a little family-affection; if those simple wishes are to be discussed and criticized; if they are the cause that my unfortunate past--my fault, my sin, whatever you like to call it--is raked up, not only in dirty little scurrilous rags, but also at the gossipy tea-parties and clubs at the Hague, then I will come out of my corner, then I will be rehabilitated: not for my own sake alone, but mainly for my son's; and I demand my rehabilitation of you. It is possible that you don't care for my sisterly love; but, as a condition of that love, I now demand my rehabilitation."
"But, good Heavens, Constance, what can I, what _can_ I do for you?"
"What can you do for me? Receive me on your at-home days. Make it clear to your husband that you must receive me, that you can't act otherwise towards a sister than receive her, now that she has once--in an evil hour--returned to the Hague. Not hesitate any longer to introduce me to whoever it may be, in your drawing-room," she exclaimed, with her dark eyes quivering, her every nerve trembling, as she sat between Bertha and Paul.
Her sister was almost panting with suppressed excitement and helplessness, while her brother listened in dismay to her demands, which appeared to him, the _blase_, world-worn sage, to contain no philosophy whatever. And Constance went on:
"What can you do for me? Look upon it as only natural--and try to make your friends look upon it as natural--that you should receive me!"
"I should be very glad to do all that you ask of me, Constance, if there was not the objection that we see and always have seen relations and friends of De Staffelaer's."
"Isn't your sister worth a single effort to you?"
"I can't choose between my husband and my sister."
"Bertha!" said Constance, almost weeping with excitement and nervousness. "Bertha! Try! For Heaven's sake, try to do what I ask! It's for my child! It's not for me: it's for my son! He will have to take up a career which I, which I made impossible for Van der Welcke. Do it for my son's sake. G.o.d in His Heaven! Must I go on my knees to you? Do it, I beseech you, Bertha: try, try to do it; speak to Van Naghel...."
"Constance, I will speak to Van Naghel; but how can you ever hope not that we, but that other people will forgive, will forget: De Staffelaer's relations, De Staffelaer's old friends?"
"Yes, I do hope it! And, if you help me, Bertha, if you help me, it will not be so utterly impossible."
"How do I know that Mrs. van Eilenburgh or the Van den Heuvel Steyns will ever come to us again, after meeting you at my house?"
"So you decline?" cried Constance, flaring up. "So you refuse?"
"Constance, I should like to do what you ask; there is nothing I should like better. But people, but Van Naghel...."
"Then let me speak to Van Naghel!"