And, from the French novel, with its seasoned intrigue that seemed to suit them so well, their love turned into the real tragedy of their lives. She had envious enemies, jealous because she had given a finer dinner than they, jealous of a handsomer dress. De Staffelaer was first warned by anonymous letters. Then a footman whom he had occasion to rebuke flung it in his face that mevrouw was carrying on with meneer the secretary. . . . He traced their place of assignation. He found Van der Welcke there, while Constance had just time to escape down a back staircase. Amid this damning confusion, Van der Welcke’s denial was tantamount to a confession. . . .
Of course, the scandal was spread abroad at once, in Holland as well as in Rome. A divorce followed. Constance was condemned by her family and cast out, left as it were homeless. . . . She always fancied that the scandal had been Papa’s death: a year later, he pined away, died, slowly, from the effects of a stroke, broken-hearted over the stain which his favourite daughter had cast upon all the blameless decorum of the aristocrat and statesman that he was. She was left as it were homeless, with a small allowance from De Staffelaer, which she refused as soon as she was able to do without it. . . .
Then she saw Van der Welcke come to her, to Florence, where she had, so to speak, taken sanctuary. But he did not come to her of his own accord; he came sent, forced to go, by his father.
