For hours she would sit thus alone in the shadow of her day and the shadow of her soul; and, when any of her children or friends called, they would find her in low spirits.
"Mamma, don't you feel lonely like this?" Adolphine asked, one afternoon. "We should all like to see you take a companion."
The old woman shook her head irritably:
"A companion? What for? Certainly not."
"Or have Dorine to live with you."
"Dorine? Living with me? No, no, I won't have her in the house with me. Why should I?"
"You're so lonely; and, though you've had the servants a long time, somebody . . . to sit with you, you know . . ."
"Somebody sitting with me all day long? No, no. . . ."
"We should like to see it, Mamma."
"Well, you won't see it."
And the old woman remained obstinate.
Another afternoon, Adeline said:
"Mamma dear, Constance asked me to tell you that she won't be able to see you for a day or two."
"And why not? What's the matter with Constance?"
"Nothing, Mamma dear, but she's been sent for to Driebergen. . . ."
