Eline Vere (35 page)

‘Darling!' he whispered.

‘My Otto, my very own Otto,' she sighed. ‘Oh yes, I'm far too sensitive. How you'll put up with me I cannot imagine. I'm always so . . . Oh poor Vincent, I do feel sorry for him, don't you?'

‘Yes I do; he doesn't seem at all well.'

She continued to lean against his shoulder for some time, and gradually calmed down. Her weeping subsided, but her eyes remained moist and sad, for she was thinking of that split second when she had seen the ghost, willing herself to recall what it had looked like, the better to banish it for ever. The ghost must never, ever come back to haunt her, it was just too upsetting!

. . .

After a hurried lunch following the physician's visit, Betsy decided to send Dirk with the coupé to fetch Dr Reijer after all, and when the latter arrived she went with him to see Vincent, who had been put to bed in his room. As it was not the first time Vincent had fainted, she knew what to do: following Dr Reijer's instructions, she made sure his head was lower than the rest of his body by stuffing cushions under his back. Slowly Vincent came to himself again. He opened his eyes a moment, and trailed his hand over the coverlet. Dr Reijer turned down the light in the room and prescribed complete rest for the patient.

‘It's not dangerous, is it, doctor?' asked Betsy downstairs in the salon, where Eline, Otto and Henk were waiting.

‘Not immediately, dear lady,' replied Reijer, hurriedly buttoning up his smart demi-season coat. ‘But you do realise, twice in relatively short succession . . . It does not bode well for Mr Vere's
state of health. I have the impression he suffers from anaemia; altogether a weak constitution, very weak. What he needs is repose, as I mentioned before. Have you seen the Ferelijn family? They are all looking very well, including the children. Such a charming lady. Well now, au revoir. I will gladly make use of your vehicle again, thank you. Au revoir, Mr van Raat, I'll let myself out.'

Anna the nursemaid would keep vigil at Vincent's bedside. The house was silent; Henk retired for a rest and Betsy went upstairs with Ben to put him to bed herself rather than risk a commotion by leaving this task to the erratic Mina. Otto and Eline remained in the anteroom.

‘Are you feeling better?' he asked as she settled herself on a cushion at his feet.

She took a deep breath and nodded reassuringly. Indeed, she felt quite calm and safe sitting there resting her head against his knee, and had no desire to dwell on the muddled thoughts crowding her mind: Vincent's sudden illness, the conversation they had been having which she couldn't remember, the pity she felt for this cousin of hers, who reminded her so very much of her father. But no, she was determined not to think about any of these things; she was determined to be happy, here and now, close to her Otto.

‘I always feel better when I'm with you. You're so good to me.'

‘A while ago you mentioned that you sometimes get very nervous for no reason. Melancholy, too, I believe. In this case there certainly was a reason, of course, so it is perfectly natural that you were upset. But I want you to promise me that next time you feel nervous for no reason you will come straight to me.'

‘Yes, of course.'

‘You'll come to me and tell me exactly how you feel, and you'll trust me because I love you and will always do everything in my power to make you feel better. Promise?'

‘All right, I promise. I never had anyone to talk to before, except Henk, in whom I confided from time to time, but I don't believe he understood me, although he was extremely kind. At least I have you now! Oh, Otto, don't you believe that true love only happens once in a lifetime? I mean real, true love, not just having a crush on someone, which happens quite a lot, doesn't it?'

‘Well, not to me; at least not any more!' he replied with a smile.

‘Then you agree. You love me properly, not just because of the way I look or anything like that. At first I didn't understand why you loved me, but now I do: you love me because, because . . . oh dear, I don't quite know how to say it, but I can feel it deep down: I mean everything to you, don't I? But when you gave me that fan last winter, the Bucchi fan, how much did you love me then? Go on, tell me!'

He listened indulgently to her ramblings and planted a kiss on the top of her head by way of an answer. Oh yes, she knew perfectly well that she could depend on him, that she could trust him completely, and that he would make her happy again whenever she was the least bit despondent. At length, feeling increasingly fatigued after the upheaval of the past hours, she fell silent, merely humming a little from time to time with her head resting against his knee, until she dozed off in the gathering dusk. He sat very still, gazing down at her, and for the first time since falling in love he felt a pinprick of something like doubt in his mind, doubt whether everything would turn out as he had imagined. A sense of wistfulness came over him as he kept his eyes fixed on her sleeping form, pondering the notion that however great one's happiness, there was always a drop of bile in there somewhere, even if it only transpired from one's private musings and fears.

Georges de Woude van Bergh was studying hard for his Vice-Consular examination, when one day Emilie called at the Verstraetens'. She had a long talk with Lili's parents in private, which made Lili exceedingly nervous and tearful, so much so that Marie and Frédérique were at pains to console her. Emilie laughingly apologised for her unceremonious visit, explaining that her elderly father was ailing and never ventured out nowadays, which was why she had taken to managing all his affairs and had now come on his behalf in connection with his son's wholly honourable pretensions. She herself was not entirely in agreement with Georges' notions of the financial necessities of life, she had to admit, and she could very well imagine that Lili's parents might have some reservations regarding the matter, but on the other hand Georges' future looked decidedly promising. Besides, the pair of them seemed so headstrong and determined to enter a life together, in spite of everything, that it would be quite useless to try and talk them out of it! The question was, really, did the Verstraetens have any personal objection to him, or would they permit the two to wait until such time as they could get married and live together without too great a risk of starvation? Would Lili's parents be able, when the time came, to part with their daughter? And if they were not opposed to Lili's friendship with Georges, what would be the best way to proceed? A proper engagement, or just a union of hearts? It was regrettable that Georges and Lili had made themselves somewhat conspicuous, so that their mutual feelings were common knowledge in The
Hague, but they were young and impetuous and would doubtless become more prudent in time. So the question was . . . and Emilie reiterated her message in her genial, lively manner, but inwardly feeling a trifle anxious as to the reply.

Madame Verstraeten sighed and shook her head with an air of misgiving, but her husband, to Emilie's relief, did not appear to take unkindly to her words. However, he did have objections: Lili was so young, still a child, really, and it would wiser for her to wait a while, so as to give herself a chance to make quite sure that he was Mr Right before making any definite commitment. He liked De Woude very much and believed him to be a hardworking and honourable young man, but still, he feared that Georges' views of his financial situation were unrealistic, and that his optimism was inspired by the tender feelings he had for Lili. As for young De Woude's claims to eschewing luxury, the old gentleman had some doubts. Emilie listened attentively and in some confusion, because in her heart she agreed with all Mr Verstraeten's objections and yet, now that she had been persuaded into the folly of this visit – reluctantly, but for Georges' sake – she was loath to let her beloved brother down. Now she wished to make it appear that the objections existed in Mr Verstraeten's mind alone, and found herself hotly denying them. How tiresome to be obliged to say things one didn't mean! She might even be doing Georges a disservice by pleading his cause with such fervour, but then the boy was so deeply in love, and who knows, he might be right after all! She was no oracle, and anyway there were plenty of households that managed perfectly well on a modest income, such as those of civil servants or first lieutenants. She felt flustered and foolish, but there was no going back now.

While siding with Georges, she became inwardly angry with him for putting her in this position. Why could she never refuse him anything? Why was she being forced to be an accomplice to his ruin?

But she was true to her word, and pleaded his cause so successfully that Madame Verstraeten went to fetch Lili, who burst into tears and showered Emilie with kisses. There would not be an official betrothal, it was decided, Madame not being in favour of long
engagements – they sometimes went on for years, especially among those of modest means – and Emilie assured Lili that having a union of hearts with the blessing of her parents was an excellent compromise, under the circumstances. Anyway, it was better thus, was it not, because if on further acquaintance they found that they did not suit one another after all, there would be no harm done, and if on the other hand their friendship blossomed over time, well, so much the better. She ought to look on the bright side, why, she had gained quite a victory over her strict parents, so what more did she want? To marry on the instant – reception tomorrow, civil ceremony and church wedding in a day or two and then off to a tiny garret to live happily ever after? Surely not.

Lili smiled through her tears and kissed her parents. They knew best, and she would not go against their wishes.

. . .

That afternoon Georges was invited to dinner, after which a splendid September evening was spent in the garden. It was late when Georges took his leave, late, too, when Marie and Lili retired to their room and undressed. Marie listened with kind forbearance to Lili's excited chatter about her future with Georges: she would so love to travel, and Georges' position in the Diplomatic Service meant that they would do just that – later, of course, much later; her mind was quite set on it, for all that he told her not to have too many illusions. She lay back and stretched herself comfortably between the cool sheets, her arms folded behind her tousled mane of pale blonde hair, and she smiled at her rosy visions.

Marie got into bed, too, and for a moment it was quiet in the darkened room. Then there was a knock at the door, which opened almost at once. The girls were startled.

‘Hush, hush, it's only me,' whispered a subdued voice, and they saw a short, stooped figure in nightclothes holding a lighted candle. ‘Hush, it's all right. I'm just popping in for a chat.'

It was good old Dien, the Verstraeten family mascot, who was always so helpful when they staged plays or tableaux vivants. The old biddy approached, treading softly in her slippered feet, while
the candlelight cast a yellow glow over the shrivelled face beneath the white nightcap.

‘Dear me, Dien! You gave me quite a turn! You look like a ghost!' cried Marie.

‘Shush! Everyone is in bed, but I thought you'd probably still be awake. May I come in?'

‘Of course, Dien! Do come in!' said Lili cheerfully. ‘What have you got to tell us?'

Dien seated herself on the side of Lili's bed.

‘Your old Dien may be getting on in years, but that is not to say I don't notice when something's afoot. And so I thought to myself: I had better get down to the bottom of this. You little rascal!' she said, wagging her finger at Lili.

‘I don't know what you mean,' said Lili.

‘Come now, dearie, you can't fool your old Dien! Did you think I didn't know why you pretended to be crying this afternoon and why Miss Emilie stayed in the conservatory for such a long time? I put two and two together,' she continued with a wink of her sunken eye, ‘and sure enough, he turned up at half-past five and stayed for dinner again!'

‘Dien, you don't know what you're talking about!' protested Lili.

‘You are mistaken, your old Dien knows what she knows well enough. And you too, you know what you're about.'

‘What, then?'

‘Well, child, you're quite right. He's a steady young man if there ever was one. Such a kind face, with that neat little blond moustache. He looks just right for you, you being rather dainty yourself! They make a handsome pair, don't you think, Miss Marie?'

‘They're meant for each other!' yawned Marie from under her covers.

‘So you like him, do you?' asked Lili.

‘He's a very fine young man!' replied Dien. ‘Always very civil to me and to Bet, and when I let him in he always has a kind word to say. “How are you keeping today, Dien?” he'll ask, or some such thing. Never puts on airs, and never forgets to wipe his feet, either.'

Lili broke into laughter.

‘Have I said anything wrong, Miss?' asked Dien.

‘Not at all! And I'm so glad you approve of him.'

‘You're too excited to go to sleep just yet, I'll wager. In the daytime I'm always too busy, and this is just the right time for a little heart-to-heart talk. And your old Dien may give you some advice, eh? Well, I was a wife, too, and believe you me, child, marriage is a mixed blessing. Oh yes, it all seems a rose garden at first, but then the little ones arrive, and the cares come with them. I had three myself, children I mean, and what a struggle it was to bring them up! They caused me sadness, too, because one of my boys died when he was fourteen, and the other was a bit of a firebrand until he signed up for the colonial army like so many others. But my daughter's a good girl, she's a joy to me. Did you know that she married a tailor and went to live in Rotterdam?'

‘Yes, Dien, I know.'

‘So tell me, when do you think you'll be marrying your young man?'