Part 14 (1/2)
”My parents also are old; and they have had a hard struggle with their principles and convictions.”
”So I am to be grateful to them?”
He looked at her fixedly:
”Grateful?” he echoed. ”You've never been that. Not to them nor to me....”
She clenched her fists:
”Again!” she screamed. ”Always again and again! Nothing but reproaches for ruining your career, for ... for....”
She sobbed aloud.
”Mamma!” said Addie.
The boy was between them. He was everything to both of them. He never understood the cause of those quarrels, the ground of those reproaches: and, until now, he had never reflected how strange it was that his father's relations and his mother's were always so far away, so inaccessible. But he did not ask, even if he did not understand; and yet, though he did not understand this particular thing, he was no longer a child. He was a little man by now; and his heart was all the heavier because he did not know and did not understand. But he shouldered his burden like a hero.
She kissed the boy:
”Ah!” she wept. ”You like him better than me, Addie: go to him, go to him!”
”Mamma,” he said, ”I love you both the same. Don't cry, Mamma; don't be so quick, so impatient....”
Van der Welcke drank his coffee.
She clasped the child to her, kissed him fiercely:
”I'm going out, Addie. You're very good, but I'm going out: I want air.”
”Shall I go with you?”
”No, stay with Papa....”
She could not bear to see them together at this first moment of his return; after the past ten days, she must harden herself again to seeing him caress the child; and now, now she was running away, so that she might not see it. She put on her hat; kissed Addie once more, to show that she was not angry with him, was never angry with him; and went out.
”Papa,” said Addie.
Van der Welcke looked gloomy, apprehensive.
”Why do you say those things to her, Papa?”
”My boy!” He drew a deep breath, embraced his son. ”Addie,” he said, ”you've grown bigger than ever. How broad you're getting! You're quite a big chap, Addie; almost too big for your father to kiss and take on his knee.”
”No, Daddy; I'm your own boy.”
He sat down on Van der Welcke's knees, flung his arms about his father's neck, laid his soft, childish face against his father's close-shaven cheek.
”My little chap!”