Eline Vere (41 page)

In her irritable frame of mind Betsy's anger was quickly provoked, and besides delivering pin-pricks of disapproval to Eline and Vincent at every opportunity, she would vent her spleen on the servants, on Ben and on her husband. Impossible to please, she bustled about the house in a pretence of housewifely fastidiousness, flying into a rage at a dust cloth left lying about or a particle of fluff on the carpet, grumbling at her young son when he was sitting quietly with his toys, or berating her husband for some misdemeanour, such as having something urgent to do elsewhere the moment she opened her mouth! Most of all she was dissatisfied with herself, for having become so ill-tempered. And yet none of it was her fault. It was all her sister's fault, and Vincent's.

One day, just before dinner, things came to a head. All that happened to ignite her rage was that she had come upon Vincent raising a glass to his lips in the dining room. The dinner bell had not yet sounded, and he had helped himself to some wine from the decanter. Forgetting all her previous caution with regard to Vincent, she lashed out at him for his abominable behaviour. Where were his manners? Didn't he know she ran a respectable house? Indeed, she had been meaning to ask him for some time whether he possessed any manners at all! Thus they stood, face to face, Vincent eyeing her with cool self-restraint while Betsy let fly, when Henk and Eline entered. Eline made no comment, not wishing to take sides, while Henk tried to pacify his wife. His efforts had the opposite effect, and she turned her fury on him, accusing him of
being ineffectual and disloyal as usual. It was not the wine that she objected to – Vincent could drink as much as he liked for all she cared – what stung her was that he seemed to think he was living in a hotel, free of charge, where he could stay just as long as it suited him, helping himself to whatever took his fancy. He had no business coming down to the dining room before anyone else, before the dinner bell sounded, it was downright rude, and she wasn't having it!

Vincent kept his counsel, conceding temporary defeat, but in retreating from the room gave Betsy a look of such scorn and loathing as to strike fear into her heart. Her triumph at having put him in his place evaporated as she quickly composed herself, announcing that it was time dinner was served and motioning Henk and Eline to take their seats at the table. Henk took a deep breath and did as he was bidden; Eline too sat down, and proceeded to unfold her napkin with deliberation. Neither Betsy nor Henk said very much after that, and Eline maintained a stoic silence for the duration of the meal.

That evening Vincent packed his suitcase in preparation for his departure to London. Henk made only half-hearted attempts to dissuade him, because he knew that with Vincent out of the way there was more chance of restoring some kind of harmony in the home. He felt sorry for Vincent, to be sure, but he couldn't wait for Betsy to be relieved of this importunate cousin, whom she had first ingratiated herself with and then come to loathe from the bottom of her heart.

The next morning Vincent had a final conversation with Eline in her boudoir.

‘So you really are going?' she asked.

‘Of course, my dear girl. You know as well as I do that Betsy can't stand me.'

‘What will you do in London?'

‘I have friends there, and some money matters to attend to before I go to America.'

‘You're going to America then?'

‘You know I am: you brought me St Clare's letter yourself, remember.'

‘I didn't know you had decided for certain. Poor you!'

He smiled wanly, gratified to hear the concern in her voice.

‘Do you feel sorry for me?'

‘Yes, I do. And with you going back to your roaming existence, who knows how long it'll be before I see you again? Maybe never!'

She sighed.

‘I'm always happiest when I'm roaming,' he retorted.

She longed to ask him if she might accompany him on his travels, join him in his search for happiness in other lands and climates, but she could not think of how to frame her question, so she waited, hoping that he would raise the possibility himself. He was in love with her, after all; it was because of her that he had decided to go abroad in the first place, and now there was nothing to stop them being together.

‘He doesn't dare ask; he doesn't dare!' she thought, unsure whether she was pleased or disappointed by his timidity.

‘Happiest when you're roaming!' she echoed pensively. ‘It's possible, I suppose. You're a man, you're free to roam . . . But I am a girl, and I have lived in the same place all my life . . . Not that it makes me happy, though. Not by any means!'

He gave her a quizzical look. After a pause he asked:

‘And why aren't you happy?'

‘Why I'm not happy? I don't know, really,' she murmured.

She waited for him to press her for an answer, but presently told herself he might think it inappropriate to do so now, given that she had only recently broken with Otto. Yet she was sure she had heard the intonation of love in his soft voice, and she looked at him expectantly. A ray of sunshine entered the room through the parted curtains, setting aglow the slight figure on the sofa, and a pang went through her as she thought how closely he resembled her father. Her heart began to race, and she felt a great surge of love for Vincent, on account of that very likeness, on account of his suffering under the narrow-minded conventions of society, on account of her idealised, romantic perception of him.

He returned her gaze with an expression of sympathy. She had jettisoned her chance of happiness, as he himself had been known to do on several occasions in the past, although he had never been so
acutely aware of it as she seemed to be now. For an instant he was of a mind to tell her as much, but then thought better of it; she would not have listened, anyway.

‘Vincent!' she stammered at length, fraught with waiting for him make some kind of declaration. ‘Vincent, please – we might never see each other again. Are you sure you have nothing to say to me?'

‘Oh, I have lots to say to you, Elly dear. For one thing, I want to thank you for nursing me and pampering me like a true sister, here in your own room, at a time of such painful suffering for you.'

‘What makes you think I was suffering?'

‘Because I know a thing or two about human nature.'

She shook her head in denial.

‘I don't think I did suffer, really. Not personally I mean, only on behalf of Otto.'

She felt a twinge of guilt at that lie, but it was for Vincent's sake, Vincent who was in love with her and must not know of her heartache. He looked at her intently, wondering why she should wish to hide the truth from him. He did not understand her, but then the workings of the female mind were always hard to fathom, if not to say shrouded in mystery.

She for her part did not understand him. It was inexplicable that he had not asked her to be his, now that nothing stood in their way, now that he was on the point of going abroad. Another hour and he would be gone! Ah, but perhaps he thought it was too late. She took a deep breath, and with a new urgency in her voice she said:

‘Vincent, I want you to promise me something. If there is anything I can do for you, if I can ever help you in any way, you must write to me from New York, and I shan't disappoint you. Promise me that you will write?'

‘I promise. You are very kind.'

‘Another thing: I know you're often short of funds. If I can be of help, you must let me know. Just now, for instance, I have two hundred and fifty guilders to spare. Yours, if you need any money. Shall I get it for you?'

She rose, making to open her writing table, but he grasped her hand with a show of emotion.

‘Elly, oh Elly, no – I couldn't possibly. It is extremely kind of you, and I'm deeply grateful, but I wouldn't be able to pay you back for quite some time.'

‘Please don't say no, I'd really like you to have it.'

‘I can't tell you how much I appreciate your offer, but no, truly, I cannot accept. It would not be right.'

She stood quite still, her face drained of colour. Yes! Yes, of course he loved her! How could she have had the slightest doubt? Why else would he refuse the money? It was because he loved her that he wouldn't let a debt come between them! But then why didn't he say something?

At last he stood up; the cab would arrive in a few minutes.

‘Can't you make it up with Betsy before you go?' she said imploringly. ‘It's so horrid to part under these conditions.'

‘I'll go to her now, and all will be put right again soon enough. But now I really must be off. Goodbye, my dear Elly. Farewell, and thank you a thousand times for everything you have done for me.'

‘Goodbye, Vincent, goodbye.'

As he made to embrace her, she flung her arms about his neck and kissed him on both cheeks.

‘Spare a thought for me now and then, will you?' he said. ‘I hold you very dear, and there aren't that many people I hold dear, as you well know. Farewell then, Elly, au revoir.'

Struggling against her tears, she kissed him again, and as he moved away she subsided on to the couch, giving a final nod of farewell. He left, shutting the door behind him.

She sat staring at the door until she heard his cab rumble off. She was perplexed. How could he have kissed her so coolly in that final moment of intimacy? She dearly wished to understand his sentiments, and also to probe her own feelings so that she might know whether she really loved Vincent, but she was tired and her head felt heavy, and with a weary sigh she fell back in the cushions.

. . .

Betsy had pardoned Vincent at the last moment. In the knowledge that he was leaving at last she could afford to soften towards him,
and so she made conciliatory remarks to the effect that their time together would soon have been curtailed anyway because she was planning to travel abroad in the autumn. Once he was gone she gradually became herself again, no longer venting her temper so frequently at the servants, or at Eline, Henk and Ben. She even spoke amicably to her sister from time to time: it really wasn't a good idea to shut oneself away from the world the way she was doing, it would make anyone lonely and miserable, and besides, it was bound to attract attention – people might think she was sorry to have lost Van Erlevoort! No, it would be a good thing if she showed her face in public once in a while; there was no need to accept every invitation if she did not feel up to it, but sending her apologies every time was giving the wrong impression. As it happened, Madame Hovel was giving a dinner party the following week; her evenings were usually rather intimate, and this invitation was no exception. Emilie and Georges de Woude would be there, as well as Paul – in other words, should Betsy accept on Eline's behalf?

Eline herself was beginning to feel a desire for a change of scene, for she was enmeshed in her solitary thoughts, which went round and round in her head without leading anywhere. So she conceded that Betsy was quite right: she would accept Madame Hovel's invitation. It would be her first appearance in company since breaking off her engagement. The dinner party a few days hence became an anchor in her fluctuating emotions, a welcome distraction from Betsy's constant references to Vincent's tiresome sojourn in her house. What a blessing it was to be rid of that languishing, insufferable cousin of theirs! True, she had taken offence at a fairly minor breach of etiquette on his part, but it had been quite wrong of him, and she wasn't a bit sorry she had told him off, because if she hadn't done so he would still be there! Good gracious, what a bore he was! Why she had ever thought he would be good company she could not imagine. And that long face of his – rather like a reptile, quite loathsome, really. Ah well, thank goodness he was gone now, and she was glad to let bygones be bygones.

During mealtimes each day Betsy chatted on in the same mindless vein, reciting the same litany of disparagements. Henk and Eline sat in glum silence, numbed by her loquacity. Much as Eline
wanted to speak out in Vincent's defence, she felt too dispirited, and simply gave a sigh of relief when Betsy finally ran out of steam. She suffered mutely for Vincent, who was in love with her and had acted so honourably.

The day of the dinner arrived. For the first time in weeks Eline took great care over her appearance. While they were waiting for the carriage to arrive, however, Betsy pronounced her to be overdressed: such a dark gown, and so formal, why, she looked as if she were going to a funeral! Eline said nothing, merely shrugged. She glanced in the hall-stand mirror and was reassured: she thought she made an impression of subdued elegance with her pale, melancholy features and her low-cut dress of black, frothy tulle.

They were the last to arrive at the Hovel residence, and when Eline made her entrance she had the feeling everyone in the room was observing her with a kind of eager curiosity. It was the first time she had ever felt ill at ease being the centre of attention, and yet she knew all the dinner guests quite intimately: Emilie and Georges de Woude, Françoise Oudendijk, Hijdrecht and Paul. On the other hand, none of them had seen her since she had called off her engagement, so there was nothing for it but to try and ignore their inquisitive glances. At the table, seated between Georges and Hijdrecht, she felt little desire to talk, and was glad of the latter's rambling conversation, to which she pretended to listen, smiling vaguely and not saying a word in response. Georges was more quiet than usual. But on the opposite side of the table a loud, jocular exchange was taking place between Emilie and Françoise, while Paul, placed between them, acted as referee.

The clamour opposite, Hijdrecht's incessant chatter at her side, and the general animation around the dinner table made Eline's head swim. The servants intoning each variety of wine as they made to replenish her glass, the copious servings, the joking and the hilarity – how very boring it all was. She was jolted out of her gloomy reverie by the mention of Vincent's name. Betsy was telling the host that her cousin had departed and might be going to America.