But in this Eline was mistaken. He had not asked for money, nor did he need a letter of introduction or some other favour. Vincent simply wanted to let them know that he and his friend Lawrence St Clare were planning a trip to Europe, and that they would be stopping in Brussels. They would be sailing to Liverpool, from where they would travel to London and Paris before arriving in Brussels. By the time Uncle Daniel received this news they were already halfway across the Atlantic.
Vincent’s letter revived Eline to some degree from her psychic lethargy. She remembered how Vincent, pale and sickly, had lain on her couch in his Turkish chamber cloak, and how she had nursed him back to health. Her next thought was of Otto, and she fumbled agitatedly for the black enamelled locket on her watch-chain. Had she not fancied that Vincent was in love with her, and she with him? Were there any such feelings still lingering in her heart? No, those feelings were far, far away, like birds that had vanished out of sight.
Uncle and Eliza discussed Vincent’s impending visit briefly, then said no more on the subject. But Eline, though she kept silent, thought a great deal about him and his American friend. She recalled having seen the photograph of St Clare when it fell out of his letter to Vincent; it was on the same day that she had lost her temper with Otto during dinner. She recalled having asked Vincent whether his friend’s hair was fair or dark, but not what he had replied. Nor could she recall what St Clare looked like. She was very curious to see them both.
. .
After some weeks a second letter from Vincent arrived; this time posted from Paris. A few days later the two friends arrived; it was late afternoon, and they stayed to dinner. Uncle and Eliza offered to put them up, out of courtesy, but St Clare declined politely: they had already taken rooms at the Hotel des Flandres.
Vincent had not changed a whit, either in appearance or demeanour. When he and Eline were standing side by side, talking, she caught their reflection in the pier glass, and suddenly noticed that she had aged. He was the same elegantly dressed young man as two years before, and beside her sallow skin and sunken cheeks he looked healthier than she had ever seen him. She, in black lace — she wore nothing else these days — stood there with her thin shoulders and lacklustre eyes gazing at the ruins of her former youthful radiance. . ruined inside and out.
Lawrence St Clare directly made a very favourable impression upon both ladies. Eline had rather imagined him, as an American, to be a little coarse and uncivilised — possibly even spitting, swearing, or demanding whisky — and she was pleasantly surprised by his engaging, easy manner. He was tall and rugged, with a full, dark-blond beard, and in his clear eyes there gleamed a certain pride, but it was a pride that, without a trace of arrogance, betokened character and strength of will. His masterful bearing and air of independence inspired confidence in Eline. Although Vincent had not told her very much about St Clare, she felt almost at once that she had known him for a long time. His frank smile and mild yet penetrating gaze pleased her, and when she glanced about the dinner table she was struck by the calm, wholesome uprightness he exuded, compared to which her uncle’s civility and Eliza’s frothy chitchat, as well as the vague melancholy shared by herself and Vincent, seemed to her false and jaded.
After dinner they took coffee in the reception room. Eline felt at ease in St Clare’s company, and hoped there would be no further callers to disturb them. She had little opportunity to converse with him, though, as Eliza bombarded him with questions about New York, Philadelphia and St Louis. He replied in French, speaking slowly, with a strange accent that Eline found rather charming.
Vincent clasped her hands and stared at her intently; he was grateful for what she had done for him in The Hague, and now felt a pang of compassion for her.
‘I have missed you, Elly!’ he said as they settled themselves in the balcony. ‘But you really ought to put on some weight, you know!’
She gave a light laugh and nervously poked the tip of her shoe into the fleecy white rug.
‘I am quite all right!’ she said. ‘Indeed, I have been feeling rather well lately. Better than before, anyway. And I am very glad to see you again, very glad. You know I have always been fond of you.’
She put out her hand with a generous gesture; he pressed it and moved his chair a little closer.
‘And what do you think of Lawrence?’ he asked. ‘Do you like him?’
‘Yes, he seems very nice.’
‘He is the only man I have ever known who is as good as his word. I don’t trust anyone, not a soul, you see; not even you, not even myself, but I do trust him. . Don’t you find his French accent rather amusing?’
‘He speaks French very well!’ responded Eline.
‘Oh, you can’t imagine how loyal he is to his friends!’ Vincent continued familiarly. ‘If I were to tell you all the things he has done for me, you wouldn’t believe me. To be honest, his generosity towards me has been enormous, almost embarrassingly so, as it happens. You see, I was taken very ill in New York, very ill indeed — my life was in danger. At that time I was employed by the same company St Clare has invested his money in. He took me into his home and looked after me with almost as much tender care as you showed me in The Hague. I don’t know what I have done to deserve his friendship, nor can I ever repay him. But I don’t think there is anything I would not do for him. If there is a grain of goodness in me at all, it is thanks to his influence. During my illness he arranged for a temporary replacement for my position — I was second in command in the accounts department — so that I would not be without an income once I had recovered. But then a while ago he conceived the idea of going on a tour; he knew little about Europe, and was concerned about my working too hard. In short, he invited me to accompany him on his travels. I declined at first, because I was already so beholden to him, but he insisted, and in the end I agreed. He wants to go as far as Petersburg and Moscow this winter, and to spend next summer touring southern Europe. Well, as you know, I have done a fair bit of travelling myself, and so I am glad to offer my services as a guide. But I have never travelled in such style before! We stay at the best hotels, no expense is spared. Nothing but the best, don’t you know!’
He paused, tiring of his prolonged whispering.
‘Has he so much sympathy for you?’ murmured Eline. ‘How remarkable! Of course I hardly know him, but it seems to me that his temperament is not a bit like yours, Vincent.’
‘No, it is not; you are quite right. Maybe that is why he likes me. At any rate, he’s always saying I’m a better person than everyone seems to think, myself included. Which is quite a consolation, wouldn’t you say?’
‘Perhaps he finds you as interesting as Eliza finds me!’ said Eline, laughing disparagingly in spite of herself. Seeing St Clare coming towards them, she felt a pang of conscience — how could she have compared the proud sincerity emanating from his person with the trivial coolness of Eliza!
Meanwhile Eliza busied herself with the liqueurs, asking Vincent whether he preferred kirsch or curaçao, or would he rather have a glass of cognac? Vincent went to sit with her and Uncle Daniel by the fire, while St Clare seated himself in the balcony beside Eline.
‘Ah, so you are the dear cousin Vincent told me so much about! The cousin who took such good care of him,’ he said, smiling as he put his hands in his pockets and fixed Eline with his frank stare.
Eline was about to say that he too had proved his merit in that department, but checked the impulse, thinking it might be inappropriate to let on how much Vincent had already told her about their friendship.