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Rh. . . What do you think of Con-stance, Adolphine? Karel thinks his sis-ter so al-tered, so altered. . . .”

“Yes, she’s altered. She has grown old, very old,” said Adolphine, who, herself four years younger than Constance, looked decidedly older.

“Oh, I don’t know!” said Karel, trying to defend his sister. “You would never say she was forty-two. . . .”

“Oh, is she forty-two?” drawled Cateau.

“I’ll tell you what I think,” said Adolphine. “I don’t think Constance looks a bit distinguished.”

When Adolphine was envious and jealous—and that was generally—she said the exact opposite of what she thought in her heart.

“Not a bit distinguished!” she repeated, with conviction. “There is something in the way she does her hair, in those rings of hers—I don’t know—something not quite respectable. . . .”

“Yes, something foreign,” said Karel, feebly, by way of an excuse.

“I think,” said Cateau, “Con-stance has something about her that’s not quite prop-er. . . .”

“Oh,” said Adolphine, “but propriety isn’t her strong point!”

“Never was,” grinned Karel, in his turn.

“If she had only stayed in Brussels!” snapped Adolphine.

“Ah!” said Cateau, opening big owl’s eyes. “Do you think so too?”

“Yes. And you?”