"Yes, there he is!" exclaimed Van der Welcke.

And he darted forwards, stopped Brauws, who was walking fast and saw n.o.body, and seized his hand. The others drew near. Van Vreeswijck, out of politeness, stayed by Constance, waved his hand to Brauws. Van der Welcke was in a great state of excitement:

"Where are you going?" they heard him ask Brauws. "To the Witte?"

"No, my dear fellow, home."

"Home? Can you go home now? Won't you come to the Witte? I say, do let me introduce you to my wife, to my brother-in-law...."

Brauws started:

"No, Hans, honestly.... No, no.... What's the good?..."

Constance heard and could not help smiling. She walked on with Van Vreeswijck and Paul.

"Yes, yes," Van der Welcke insisted.

Brauws no doubt realized that Constance had heard, for he said, in a voice of despair:

"Very well then, Hans...."

"Constance! Paul!" cried Van der Welcke, proud of his friend, and caught them up.

He would have liked to introduce Brauws to the whole world, to the whole audience streaming out of Diligentia.

"Let me introduce you: my friend, Max Brauws; my wife; my brother-in-law, Van Lowe."

They shook hands. Brauws remained standing in front of Constance, shyly and awkwardly. She tried to pay him a compliment that would not sound too obvious; and, like the tactful woman that she was, she succeeded. Paul also said something; they walked on, Van Vreeswijck silently amused at Van der Welcke's excitement and Brauws' awkwardness.

"And are you really going home? Won't you come to the Witte?" Van der Welcke urged, in imploring tones.

"My dear Hans, what would you have me do at the Witte?"

"So you're going home."

"Yes, I'm going home, but I'll walk a bit of the way with you."

And, wishing to appear polite, he bowed vaguely to Constance, but said nothing more.

It was a delightful winter evening, with a sharp frost and a sky full of twinkling stars.

"I love walking," said Constance. "When I've heard anything fine--music, a play, or a speech like to-night's--I would much rather walk than rattle home in a cab."

"My dear fellow!" cried Van der Welcke, still bubbling over with enthusiasm. "You've converted me! I believe in it, I believe in that Peace of yours!"

Brauws gave a sudden bellow.

"There, now the chap's laughing at me again!" said Van der Welcke, in an injured tone.

"Well," said Brauws, "shall I come and fetch you in a motor to-morrow, to reward you?"

They all laughed this time.

"Have you got one?" cried Van der Welcke, delightedly.

"No, but I can hire one," said Brauws. "And then you can drive."

"Can you hire one? Can you hire one?" cried Van der Welcke, in delighted amazement. "And may I really drive?"

And forgetting all about Peace, he was soon eagerly discussing motor-cars and motor-cycles....

When they reached the Kerkhoflaan, Constance asked:

"Won't you all come in?"

Van Vreeswijck and Paul said that they would be glad to come and have a gla.s.s of wine; but Brauws said:

"Mevrouw, it's so late...."

"Not for us."

"Come along, Max," said Van der Welcke.

But Brauws laughed his queer, soft laugh and said:

"What's the good of my coming in?..."

And he went off, with a shy bow. They all laughed.

"Really, Brauws is impossible," said Van Vreeswijck, indignantly.

"And he's forgotten to tell me at what time he's coming for me with his old sewing-machine...."

But next day, very early, in the misty winter morning, the "machine"

came puffing and snorting and exploding down the Kerkhoflaan and stopped at Van der Welcke's door with a succession of deep-drawn sighs and spasmodic gasps, as if to take breath after its exertions; and this monster as it were of living and breathing iron, odorous of petrol--the acrid smell of its sweat--was soon surrounded by a little group of butchers'-boys and orange-hawkers. Brauws stepped out; and, as Constance happened to be coming downstairs, she received him.

"I'm not fit to be seen, mevrouw. In these 'sewing-machines,' as Hans calls them, one becomes unpresentable at once."

He was shy, looked out at the gasping motor-car and smiled at the crowd that had gathered round:

"I'm causing quite a tumult outside your door."

"They ought to be used to 'sewing-machines' at the Hague by now."

"That's a very graphic word of Hans'."

They both laughed. She thought his laugh attractive and his voice soft and restful to listen to.