"You're absolutely humanizing Brauws," said Van der Welcke to
Constance, when Brauws had accepted a second invitation to dinner. "And
with other people coming, too!... It's incredible!"
She was fond of seeing people whom she liked at her table; and she
took a pleasure in making her house comfortable for others as well
as for herself. Addie was to come down to dinner. Adeline was going
out for the first time after her recent confinement; and Gerrit was
glad to come, appreciated a good dinner. Her only fear had been that
Van Vreeswijck would think it too much of a family dinner this time.
"Tell me frankly, would you rather not come?" she asked Van Vreeswijck.
But he almost flushed as he said:
"But I'm delighted to come, mevrouw."
She had noticed lately that he was paying great attention to Marianne;
and she was almost glad of it.
They were very gay at dinner; and Brauws, feeling quite at home, talked
about America: how he had stood on the platform of an electric tram,
in wind and rain, as driver.
"Constance," said Paul, "all the social elements are assembled
at your dinner-table to-night! Did you choose them on purpose? Van
Vreeswijck represents the Court aristocracy; your husband, let us say,
the country aristocracy: it's the only word I can find for him; Gerrit
the army; Brauws labour; I the middle-classes, the pure unadulterated
capitalists; and your boy the future, the mysterious future! The
ladies are not so mixed: next time, you must mix your ladies...."
"Mr. Brauws," Marianne asked, suddenly, "why aren't you driving a
tram now?"
"Freule, [5] to explain that, I should have to talk to you for
two hours about myself; and you wouldn't be interested in the
explanation...."
"Oh, yes!" said Marianne, flippantly. "If you had remained a
tram-driver, your life would not have interested me. Now that you
have resigned your rank as a workman and are eating pate and drinking
champagne with us, it does interest me. For it's just that evolution
which attracts me...."
"Marianne!" said Paul, admonishing her. "Not so fast, child: you're
only a little girl and you mustn't discuss such questions. You'll be
making Mr. Brauws afraid to take another mouthful!..."
Brauws was obviously a little annoyed; and Constance whispered:
"Marianne ... don't talk like that...."
"But, Auntie...."
"No, dear, don't do it: don't talk like that...."
"Am I always saying tactless things?"
"No, no, but ... if you keep on, you'll really make Brauws refuse to
come to the houses of people like ourselves...."
"Who eat pate!"
"Hush, Marianne!"
"Uncle!" said Marianne to Van der Welcke.
"Yes?"
"Don't you think it silly? To become a workman and then leave
off? Why? That's what I want to know. If you want to become one,
you should remain one! Are you in sympathy with those ideas which
lead to nothing?"
"I'm very fond of Brauws, Marianne."
"But not of his ideas?"
"No, he's a monomaniac. He's mad on that point, or was."
"Just so: was."
"Marianne, are you always so implacable?"
The bells:
"No, I'm not implacable. Paul is really right: I mustn't talk like
that. I blurt out the first thing that comes into my head. Is Brauws
angry, do you think?"
"With you? No."
"I say, Uncle, do you think it's the least use, always thinking about
that improvement of social conditions? Why not, all of us, do good
where we can and, for the rest, try and be happy ourselves? That's
the great thing."
Van der Welcke laughed:
"What an easy solution, Marianne!"
"Tell me, Uncle: do you do a lot of good?"
"No."
"Are you happy?"
"Sometimes...."
"Not always.... I don't do any good either, or not much. I am happy
... sometimes. You see, I don't go very far, even according to my own
superficial creed. Uncle, are we very insignificant, should you say?"
"Who, baby?"
"You and I! Much more insignificant than Brauws?"
"I think so."
"Are we small?"
"Small?"
"Yes, are we small souls ... and is he ... is he a big one?"
"Perhaps, Marianne."
"Yes, I'm a small one. And you too ... I think. He's not. No, he's
one of the big ones ... though he is eating pate just now. But I,
a small soul, shall always like small souls best. I like you much
better than him."
"And yet he is more interesting than I; and one doesn't come across
many big souls."
"No, but I like you best. I daren't talk to him again. I should start
quarrelling with him at once. Straight away. I could never quarrel with
you. That's the sympathy between small soul ... and small soul. Tell
me, is your insignificance attracted to mine also?"
"Perhaps, Marianne."
"You say perhaps to everything. Say yes."
"Well, then, yes."
"Are we both small?"
"Yes."
"Both of us?"
"Yes."
"In sympathy?"
"Yes."
The bells:
"Yes--yes--yes!" she laughed; and the little bells tinkled merrily,
the shrill little silver bells. "Uncle, I drink to it."
"To what?"
"To our small ... sympathy."
"Here goes!"
Their champagne-glasses touched, with a crystal note. They drank.
"What are you drinking to?" asked Paul.
She put her finger to her tiny mouth. She was radiant and, in her
excitement, she became very pretty, with her shining eyes. She felt
that Brauws was looking at her; and she felt that Brauws was still
angry. And, feeling mischievous and happy, with a desire to tease them
all, Brauws, Paul and Van der Welcke, she murmured, with an airy grace:
"That's our secret; Uncle's and mine...."
"A secret?" asked Van Vreeswijck.
She laughed. The bells rang out merrily:
"And you," she said to Van Vreeswijck, maliciously, "you sha'n't know
the secret ever!..."