Eline Vere (28 page)

Eline thought the wind had risen and wished to sit forward under the half-raised hood, next to Otto. Betsy instructed Dirk to make a detour through the Van Stolkpark on the way home.

The slumbering villas loomed spectrally amid dark masses of foliage stirring in the gentle breeze, and the only sounds intruding on the stillness were the thud of the horses' hooves and the light crunch of wheels on the gravelled road. No one spoke. Betsy leant back comfortably, savouring the night air. Henk fretted inwardly about his harshness towards Vincent, who was bound to feel offended, and Eline abandoned herself to the dreamy pleasure of the moment. She had removed her hat, and now inclined her head slightly to Otto, listening to his regular breathing. In the obscurity of the half-raised hood his arm had stolen around her waist, and he drew her gently towards him so that her cheek was almost touching his shoulder, while her hand brushed his knee. She felt very happy, and could imagine nothing sweeter than sitting close to him like this, feeling his breath ruffle her hair like kisses, feeling his arm encircling her waist like a girdle of love.

And, in a surge of tender emotion, she finally allowed her head to rest on his shoulder.

‘What was the name you thought of for me?' she whispered in his ear.

‘Nily!' he whispered back.

She felt his arm tightening about her waist, and she repeated the new name under her breath several times, exulting in his sweet term of endearment.

. . .

Mathilda van Rijssel had taken a beach tent for the summer, and had told Jeanne Ferelijn to come and join her there with her children whenever she chose. Jeanne was reluctant at first, not wishing to impose, but Mathilda had won her over, and lately she had been a frequent visitor. Sometimes they arranged to go together, leaving quite early equipped only with sandwiches, since milk for the little ones could be had from the stall. They would make themselves comfortable under the awning of the tent, in which they stored their belongings, and there they passed the time talking, reading and sewing while the youngsters set to work with their buckets and spades, digging holes in the sand nearby and building ingenious aqueducts down by the water's edge.

Jeanne fancied that her children were growing more robust and altogether more cheerful under the influence of the Van Rijssel youngsters, and both she and Mathilda enjoyed watching the jolly little band of seven scampering like puppies back and forth between excavation sites and waterworks. She was very glad to keep company with Mathilda, in whom she had found a friend who understood her cares and offered sympathetic advice. They talked at length of their offspring, and also of their respective domestic arrangements, and Jeanne thought Mathilda extraordinarily frugal and practical for someone accustomed to living in comfortable circumstances.

However, the sunny days at the beach did not continue for long, as the Ferelijns had to leave. They were going to Boppard, where Frans was to take a cold-water cure. Jeanne was worried about the expense; there were the travelling costs to consider, and their accommodation, because how could the five of them afford to stay there for six weeks while the rent of the upstairs apartment in Hugo de Grootstraat needed to be paid as well?

Otto wished to introduce his fiancée to his sister's family, and Madame van Erlevoort agreed to accompany them on a visit to
Zwolle for a few days. Madame was in raptures about her new grandson: the prettiest, chubbiest baby in the world, with such a fine head of dark curly hair! She was grateful to Otto for having persuaded her to come along. She visited De Horze every summer, for she was so accustomed to the journey that she saw no inconvenience in it at all, but at other times she found it nigh impossible to tear herself away from The Hague. She loved her spacious home on the Voorhout with its old-fashioned opulence, a little faded now, but still cosy and comfortable. Eline found the Van Stralenburgs quite charming. Suzanne was a darling little mother, not particularly pretty and a bit careless in her dress, but so sweet-natured and so thrilled with her baby son that it was a delight to behold. As for her husband, he was an affable, humorous fellow, spoilt to the core by his wife, who fetched and carried for him with such gusto at times as to make Eline dissolve into laughter. No, she did not think she would ever manage to be like that with Otto, and trusted that he would not expect it of her! But although she warned him in jest, in the depths of her being she felt it must be heaven indeed to devote oneself heart and soul to a man the way Suzanne devoted herself to Van Stralenburg, to exist for him alone, to be his loving, faithful slave, to be wholly and utterly possessed by him. Even in her current state of facility she could not resist fantasising about still greater joys to come, and conjured up elaborate visions of herself as Otto's adoring wife and of their life together in cosy, domestic bliss.

In this spirit of elation she saw happiness wherever she turned; everyone she knew seemed to her to be kind and considerate, they all seemed to be living in harmony, never flying into passions or showing the least sign of egotism. Scenes with Betsy were a thing of the past, she was sure, for she was now able to respond to her sister's disparaging remarks with mild good humour, as though there were nothing in the world that could mar her newfound joy. Her nerves were greatly soothed, and she herself was surprised to note her bright, even temper, quite undisturbed by the periodical fits of melancholy and fatigue of the past. Gone were the lowering clouds of grey-and-black gloom, for the very air that she breathed seemed changed; it was azure, flower-scented, shot through with sunbeams.

For several days after his contretemps with Vincent, Henk felt very uneasy. Being uncharitable was quite at odds with the general kindliness of his disposition, and he feared that he had hurt Vere's feelings – he might simply have been having a run of bad luck, after all. So Henk had called on Vincent to extend him the requested loan. Vincent, however, declined the offer, despite Henk's entreaties, and instead paid back a considerable portion of what he owed. Where he had procured the funds to do so was a mystery to Henk, as was everything else about Vincent.

Returning home, Henk was berated by his wife for having been tactless with her cousin. Betsy felt vaguely apprehensive about Vere, sensing in him a secret power beside which her own dominating nature paled to insignificance, and she was determined that he should not bear a grudge against her husband. Eline was going away: she had been invited to spend the month of August at De Horze by Theodore, and would travel there with the Van Erlevoorts and the Howards late in July. It would be rather dismal in the big house on Nassauplein, mused Betsy. She did not wish to go on holiday with Henk just now, she preferred a trip to the South of Europe in the winter, after Eline's wedding, and so it was for reasons of both distraction and diplomacy that Betsy decided to ask Vincent to stay with them for the duration of Eline's absence. She told him how dreadfully lonely she would feel without Eline and how much she always enjoyed Vincent's company, what with all those interesting stories he had about his wanderings, so he would be doing her a great favour by coming to stay. Vincent was secretly delighted at the prospect of temporary respite from his aimless, impecunious existence. What luxury! A whole month of peace and quiet, and it would not cost him a penny. So he accepted Betsy's invitation, concealing his pleasure with a veneer of gracious condescension, as though he were deigning to allow her to make amends for her husband's heartless behaviour.

Lili was very cross; her lips quivered and she was close to tears.

‘I really can't see why we shouldn't ask him along,' she complained to Marie. ‘He calls here often enough.'

‘Oh, Lili, have some sense! Mama already invited him to the house several times this winter, and it's not as if we know him well enough to take him on a country outing with us. Asking him along would make things stiff.'

‘But he's not in the least stiff!'

‘No, he's not. He's much nicer than I thought at first, but still, we don't know him half as well as we know Paul and Etienne.'

‘Oh, them! All they do is saunter back and forth between the Witte club and the other one, dropping in at the Bordelaise or the Bodega on the way, and nowadays they're always with that wretched Vere. We haven't seen much of them at all lately. I know Paul comes by once in a while, but Etienne has become a myth as far as I'm concerned. Why don't you ask Vere as well, while you're about it?'

Marie shrugged.

‘It's no use getting cross with me, Lili, just because Mama hasn't asked De Woude. It's nothing to do with me,' she said gently.

‘No, of course not. But it's always the same, whenever I think of something no one will hear of it. Well, I give up. I couldn't care less about the outing.'

Fighting back her tears, Lili left the drawing room; Marie took up her book with a sigh.

Madame Verstraeten, seated in the conservatory with her husband, had overheard Lili's angry words, and a look of concern crossed her kind features.

‘Is anything the matter?' he asked.

‘Oh, it's just that De Woude,' whispered Madame, so as not to be heard by Marie. ‘Lili wants me to invite him for the day after tomorrow.'

‘Why don't you, then? I have nothing against De Woude, although he is a bit of a fop. And he's rather jolly with the girls.'

‘But Karel, really, I don't think it would be wise. I always treat him with proper civility when I see him, but there's no need to encourage him any further, is there? What good would it do? Lili's still so young, and full of childish notions, too.'

‘Aren't you getting rather carried away? Why would they think of marrying? It's only a matter of an invitation, after all.'

‘I suppose you are right. But you never see them together the way I do. If only you'd come with us to Scheveningen some evening!'

‘No, thank you very much.'

‘Then you'd see for yourself. He keeps hovering around our table. He's discreet enough not to accept every time I offer icecreams, but he always stays until we leave, and hardly talks to anyone else. He takes a turn with Marie now and then, to be polite, but apart from that it's Lili, Lili, all the time. I don't think it's very suitable, as you can imagine.'

‘And do you believe that Lili–?'

‘Yes of course, it's perfectly clear! Everyone has noticed, and people are beginning to talk. I don't know quite what to do about it,' said Madame Verstraeten, again looking concerned.

Mr Verstraeten sat a moment in contemplation, after which he and his wife resumed their discussion, their voices dropping to whispers.

Marie found it impossible to concentrate on her book, so she went upstairs in search of Lili. She found her lying on her bed, sobbing into the pillows.

‘Lili! Whatever's the matter?' she called softly.

Lili started at the sound of Marie's voice.

‘Oh, leave me alone!' she cried.

But Marie took her hands and forced her to look up.

‘Lili, don't be absurd! You're so unreasonable, going off into a huff at the least provocation. Lili! Listen to me!'

‘Oh, please, just leave me alone.'

‘Why make yourself even more miserable by coming up here to cry all alone? Why don't you just tell me what's upsetting you? It's so much better to trust each other, to be open and frank and speak your mind.'

Marie herself dearly wished she could be open and frank, she would have loved to speak her mind to Lili, to Mama, to anyone, but there were some things that were best left unsaid.

Lili sat up and brushed her tousled hair from her tear-stained cheeks.

‘What would you have me say, then? You know everything already. Mama's always finding fault with Georges, and I hate that.'

‘Come now, you exaggerate. Both Papa and Mama like him well enough.'

‘I know, I know! But when it comes to showing him a bit of courtesy . . . Anyway, you said so yourself.'

‘What did I say?'

‘You said that taking him along would make things stiff!'

‘If I'd known you cared so much, I wouldn't have said it. Only I can't bear to see you getting all upset about nothing, Lili. You carry on as if your whole life is in ruins, just because Mama thinks it better not to invite De Woude for once.'

‘But it's very awkward for me! I already told him about the outing, and so naturally he now thinks–'

‘Well, you shouldn't have given him ideas. It's awkward for Mama, too, with people beginning to gossip about you. Only yesterday Madame Eekhof was saying–'

‘I don't care a straw about what Madame Eekhof says, since we love each other! Everyone's against us, it's not fair.'

‘Indeed, Lili,' breezed Marie, attempting to hide her own secret emotion. ‘It is deeply tragic. You love Georges and Georges loves you, and the whole world is against you, Mama, Madame Eekhof
and everyone else, too. Very sad, my dear, very sad indeed! And of course there isn't a glimmer of hope that anything will ever change. Very sad.'

‘Marie, how could you? Making fun of me while you know how upset I am!'

‘Yes, I'm very cruel, am I not?' Marie pursued, softening. ‘Come on, Lili, dry your tears and give me a kiss, all right? I didn't mean to be unkind. Shall I try and get Mama to change her mind?'

‘Oh, if only you would! Mama's sure to say yes if you ask her.'

‘Ah yes, I'm the one no one can refuse, aren't I? And you're the one everybody's always against, aren't you? You poor thing!'

Lili had to smile through her tears. ‘Marie, you're so funny when you talk like that! You've made me laugh!'

‘Yes, Lili dear, you can laugh. Let's all laugh while we may. Bye for now. Why don't you do up your hair, and I'll go downstairs and have a word with Mama.'

Marie left the room, feeling a pang of envy for her sister's ability to unburden herself. And as she descended the stairs she smiled wistfully at the depths of Lili's despair only a moment ago, and at her infatuation with Georges. Her sister was a mere child as far as she was concerned, crying over the temporary loss of a toy, and she was confident that all would be forgotten within the half-hour. How lucky Lili was! Free to shed tears when she was sad and free to say things like: ‘I don't care a straw about what Madame Eekhof says, since we love each other!'