Betsy burst out of the dining room, fuming.
‘Good heavens, Eline, are you mad? Fancy bringing those wretched dogs here! You know I can’t abide them. What’s come over you, going against my wishes like this? It’s as if I’m not mistress in my own home! Please take them away at once.’
Her voice was harsh and strident, as though she were giving orders to an inferior.
‘They’re thirsty, and I want to give them some water,’ responded Eline, affecting cool authority so that Betsy would not guess that the dogs had simply slipped her mind.
‘That’s as may be! I will not have them drinking water in my house, do you hear? Look at that carpet, muddy paws everywhere.’
‘Grete can clean it in no time.’
‘You don’t know what you’re saying! You live the life of a princess here, doing exactly as you please, taking no notice whatsoever of me! Take those filthy dogs away, I tell you!’
‘They must have some water first.’
‘Didn’t you hear me? I said I will not have them drinking water here!’ cried Betsy, beside herself with vexation.
‘Well, they must have their drink. I’ll take them to the garden,’ said Eline calmly.
‘Don’t you dare!’ shrieked her sister. ‘Don’t you dare!’
‘Come here, Leo, come here, Faust,’ called Eline, patting her thigh with maddening slowness.
Betsy was incensed. Her lips quivered, her hands shook, her breath came in quick, short gasps. She was speechless with rage, and wanted only to slap her sister hard, but Eline was already sauntering down the hall with the frisky hounds at her heels, into the garden, where she proceeded to fill a bucket of water at the outside tap. It gave her a subtle pleasure to anger Betsy so. The dogs drank their fill and she brought them back inside
Betsy was still standing in the hall, glowering impotently at Eline, wishing she had run after her and wrested the bucket from her grasp.
‘I warn you, Eline,’ she began, her voice quaking and her cheeks aflame, ‘I shall have to speak to Henk about this.’
‘Oh, see if I care!’ returned Eline with a flare of temper, whereupon she flounced out of the house with the dogs, slamming the door behind her.
. .
Fifteen minutes later she was back again, humming to herself in secret rapture about her meeting with Fabrice. Starting up the stairs, she broke into a long, pearly ripple of song, as though in deliberate provocation of Betsy, who was moping in the dining room, close to tears.
When Henk returned at midday, Betsy told him of Eline’s intolerable conduct, but he had little patience with her, refusing to take sides. Betsy was outraged; she accused him of being spineless, and made a scene.
For a whole week the sisters barely spoke to one another, much to Henk’s dismay, for their sulking ruined his enjoyment of the comforts of home, especially at table, where the meals were hurried through, for all that Eline chattered incessantly to him and Ben.
XII
It had struck Frédérique during the New Year’s Eve supper party at the Van Raats’ that Otto had talked and laughed a good deal with Eline; not remarkably so, but more than he usually did with the young ladies of their acquaintance. She had been wondering about this for several days, but the opportunity to ask her brother the question that was foremost in her mind never seemed to arise. She was brusque towards Etienne when he wanted to share a joke with her, had little patience for games with the children, and was pronounced by Lili, Marie and Paul to have grown altogether less good-humoured of late.
It was one of their evenings at home; only Etienne had gone out with some friends. The youngsters were in bed, and Madame van Erlevoort sat with Mathilda in the drawing room by the tea table, Madame with a book and Mathilda with some needlework. Frédérique came in, smiling, then went up to her mother and lovingly smoothed the grey hair at her temples.
‘Freddie, would you mind ringing for Willem?’ asked Mathilda. ‘Otto said he would like a cup of tea in his room; he’s doing some work and won’t be down until later.’
‘Why don’t you just pour him a cup and I’ll take it up to him,’ she replied.
Mathilda poured the tea, and as Frédérique climbed the stairs carrying the cup she thought this might be a good time to put her question, although she would prefer it if he started a conversation himself.
She entered Otto’s room and found him wandering about with a very distracted air, his head bowed and his hands clasped behind his back, in an attitude quite contrary to his customary briskness.
‘Well now, what kindness from my little sister!’ he said jovially, taking the cup from her. ‘It will taste ten times the better for being served by such pretty hands.’
‘Fie, Otto!’ cried Frédérique. ‘How could you be so banal! Don’t tell me you can’t come up with a more original compliment!’
She continued to smile at him, but did not catch his reply as she was too busy pondering how best to phrase her question. After all, he might take it amiss. Try as she might, she could not think of any easy, light-hearted way of introducing the subject, and to her own surprise she broke out with:
‘Otto, I. . I have something to say to you, something to confess.’
‘A sin?’
‘No, not a sin, at least I don’t think so; an indiscretion, maybe, which I committed against you by mistake. But first you must say you’ll forgive me.’
‘Without knowing what for?’
‘Well, it wasn’t a deliberate indiscretion; besides, I wasn’t as indiscreet as I would have liked to be, so you could even say I deserve a reward! But really, all I’m asking is that you forgive me.’
‘All right then, I shall be merciful. Tell me all about it.’
‘Promise you won’t be angry?’
‘I promise. Go on, out with it.’
‘It’s just that, quite by accident, I happened to find out who it was. . you know, on St Nicholas’ Eve. .’
He paled a little, observing her intently, and she was keenly aware that he hung on every word she uttered.
‘So I know who sent Eline that fan. . the Bucchi fan. .’
She stood before him with the air of a guilt-ridden child, mortified by her confession, while he fixed her with a wide-eyed, anxious stare.
‘You found out?’ he stammered.
She nodded.
‘Oh please, don’t be angry,’ she begged. ‘I couldn’t help it, honestly. I went to your room one morning because I needed to borrow your sealing wax. You never forbade me to go into your room, did you? I knocked, but you weren’t there so I went in, and as I was hunting for the wax on your desk I happened to notice the leather case lying in one of the compartments, and so I recognised it straight away when I saw it again in the evening. At first I thought it might be something for me, and I was dying to take a peek inside — you know how inquisitive I am — but I didn’t because I felt bad enough having discovered your gift. Oh dear, I’m afraid you are angry with me, but I couldn’t help it, could I?’
‘Angry? But my dear girl, there is nothing to be angry about!’ he replied with forced levity. ‘It was a surprise gift, and surprises don’t last for ever, do they? But I hope you haven’t mentioned it to Eline.’
‘Oh no, of course not.’
‘Well, what of it then? There’s no harm done,’ he said carelessly. ‘Or are you sorry the fan was not meant for you?’
She gave a disdainful shrug.
‘I’m surprised you should think me so childish. Only—’