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Rh “And then, in Rome,” cried Cateau, clasping her fat hands, “such things hap-pen!”

Adolphine rose: her visit was paid. She had a great deal more to talk about, among others the way in which Bertha had, so to speak, forced her daughter Emilie into her engagement with Van Raven; but it was growing late: she took her leave. Karel and Cateau went straight to the brougham:

“Oh, de-ar!” said Cateau, in a startled voice. “How wet the carriage has got!”

They drove to pay their visits. First, they drove to the Ruyvenaers: Karel rang; fortunately, Uncle and Aunt were out. Cards for Uncle and Aunt. Next—Cateau consulted her list—to Mrs. van Friesesteijn, an old friend of Mrs. van Lowe’s. At home. A cantankerous, shrivelled little old lady, always alert for news:

“Glad to see you, Cateau. Sit down, Van Lowe. So, Constance is back, I hear.”

“Ye-es,” drawled Cateau, “it’s ve-ry unpleas-ant for us.”

“And how is Constance?”

“Oh, she’s all right,” said Karel, casually.

“You see, me-vrouw,” droned Cateau, “she’s Karel’s sis-ter, isn’t she?”

“So you’re all receiving her?”

“Yes, because of Mamma, you know.”

“And Bertha too?”

“Ye-e-es, Berth-a, too.”

“And will she go to Court again, do you think?”