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Rh Scheveningen, with the express object of hearing what had happened about Emilie. . ..

Old Mrs. van Lowe was sitting in the conservatory, with the windows open, and crying gently, like one who was too old to cry violently, whatever the sorrow might be. Uncle Herman, Aunt Lot, all the children had come in gradually, their faces blank with utter dismay; and they were moving like ghosts about the large, dark rooms, where no one had thought of having the gas lit.

"Herman!" the old lady cried, plaintively.

Uncle Ruyvenaer and Aunt Lot approached.

"Have you seen him, Herman?" asked the old lady, wringing her old, knotted hands.

"No-o, Marie. But I . . . I shall go to him to-morrow . . . with Dr. van der Ouwe."

"And who is with him now?"

"A male nurse, Mamma," said Gerrit. "We've seen to everything. He's quite calm, Mamma dear, he's quite calm. It won't be very bad. It's only temporary: it'll pass, the doctor said."

Cateau's bosom suddenly loomed through the open doorway of the conservatory:

"Oh, Mam-ma," she said, "how sad . . . about Ernst! Who would ever have im-a-gined . . . that Ernst would become . . . like this!"

And she bent over her mother-in-law and gave her a formal kiss, like the kiss of a stranger paying a visit of condolence.