Part 48 (1/2)
”No, Daddy: what should I be angry for?”
”Then be as you used to be, Addie. When you're not cheerful, everything in the house is so sad.”
The boy smiled.
”I'll try, Daddy.”
”But why try? Just be it, be it!”
No, Van der Welcke would not, could not tell him.
”I'll try, Daddy.”
And he moved to go back to his books.
”Addie!”
”What is it, Papa?”
”Come here, come to me.”
”I have my work to do.”
”Come along, I want you.”
The boy came.
”Come to me, here, on my lap. Perhaps it is the last time, Addie, that I shall take you on my knee. You are my little boy still; and presently, presently perhaps you will be a big son to me, with whom I shall discuss things ... and who will no longer sit on my lap.”
He sat down on his father's knee:
”What is it?” he asked, quietly, sensibly.
”I am going to tell you, Addie.”
The child understood:
”No, don't tell me,” he said. ”I am not inquisitive. And I am too young, perhaps, to know. It doesn't matter. I dare say I shall know, later on.
For the present, I'm just your little boy.”
He nestled against his father, in his arm:
”It's so jolly, sitting with you like this. Uncle Paul always says, when he sees us bicycling, that we are just like chums, but he has never seen us like this.”
Should he tell him? thought Van der Welcke. Should he not tell him? If he told him, this would be the last time that he would take his son on his knees.
”I had made up my mind to tell you, Addie.”
”No, don't.”