‘Now what?’
She lifted her clear, guileless eyes to him, and he felt a slight pang of unease under her scrutiny.
‘The thing is, I can’t imagine any young man giving a such a beautiful present to a girl unless he’s extremely fond of her.’
‘Oh, but I am very fond of Eline, so why shouldn’t I give her something for St Nicholas?’
‘No, Otto, you’re not being frank with me!’ she said impatiently, drawing him to the sofa. ‘Come and sit down: I want you to listen a moment. A sensible, level-headed fellow like you doesn’t give a girl a fan costing goodness knows how much unless he’s in love with her, whatever you say. You never gave Eline anything before, and you didn’t give Lili or Marie any presents this year either. So you see, I can tell that there’s more to it!’ She broke off suddenly and put her hands on his shoulders.
‘Or do you think me too forward? Perhaps you’d rather not talk about it. .’ she faltered.
‘On the contrary, my dear Freddie,’ he said mildly, drawing her towards him on the sofa. ‘I’m quite happy to talk to you about Eline. Why wouldn’t I be? But suppose I did care very much for Eline, would you still think it foolish and extravagant of me. .?’
‘So it’s true then — you love Eline?’
‘You look shocked,’ he said, smiling.
‘Oh, but Eline isn’t the right kind of girl for you at all!’ she cried with agitation. ‘No, Otto, really, Elly doesn’t deserve you and she never will. I know she’s beautiful and charming, but there’s something about her that, well, that I find unsympathetic. Seriously, though, I think you would do better to put her out of your mind. I don’t believe you and she could ever be happy together. You’re so good and kind, and if you really fell deeply in love with her you’d want to surrender yourself body and soul, you’d want to do everything for her, and in return she’d give you not one tenth of what you gave her. She doesn’t have a heart, all she has is egotism, stone-cold egotism.’
‘But Freddie, Freddie,’ he protested, ‘how you rush on! What makes you think that you have sufficient experience of human nature to know exactly what Eline is like?’
She flinched at the way he pronounced Eline’s name, lingeringly, as if he were savouring it.
‘Human nature? I know nothing about human nature, all I know is what my feelings tell me, which is that Eline cares about no one but herself, that she’s incapable of making the slightest sacrifice for anyone. I feel — no, more than that: I am utterly convinced that marrying Eline would not make you happy in the long run. She might love you for a while, but it would still be out of egotism, sheer egotism.’
‘How harsh you are, Freddie!’ he murmured reproachfully. ‘It’s very kind of you to have my interests at heart like this, but you’re very hard on Eline. Very hard. I don’t believe you know her at all, really. Personally I’m sure she’s the kind of girl who would make every conceivable sacrifice for the sake of the person she loved.’
‘You say that I don’t really know her, but how well do you know her? You only see her when she’s all smiles and sweetness.’
‘How can you blame her for being charming rather than impolite?’
Frédérique sighed.
‘Oh, Otto, I don’t know what I think, all I know is what my feelings tell me: that you’ll never be happy with her,’ she said with full assurance.
He took her hand, smiling.
‘Why, you talk as if we were to be married tomorrow.’
‘Oh please tell me, then — don’t think I’m prying — you haven’t already proposed to her, have you?’
He looked at her, still smiling, and slowly shook his head.
‘In that case, I wish you’d think it over carefully. Just don’t get carried away all of a sudden,’
She leant her head on his shoulder, tears rising to her eyes.
‘You’re a dear, Freddie, but honestly—’
‘You must think it ridiculous of me to try and tell you what to do!’
‘Not at all. On the contrary, I appreciate your concern very, very much. Still, you shouldn’t judge someone on the basis of a mere feeling, a lack of sympathy shall we say — which is quite baseless, anyway. So, little sister, be a good girl and take my advice, and I shan’t think you in the least ridiculous.’
She hid her face in his shoulder and he kissed her several times on the forehead.
‘You will forgive me, won’t you? It was tactless of me, I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that.’
‘But I love you most of all for being honest and forthright with me, and I’m counting on you to stay that way in future.’
‘Then you’ll only think me impolite and not at all charming, I’m sure,’ she said tartly.
‘Now you’re being a bit spiteful. You’re not jealous of Eline, are you?’
‘Yes I am,’ she replied gruffly.
‘On account of the fan, I take it?’ he laughed.
‘Oh, you do tease me so!’ she wailed. ‘No, not because of that — I have a dozen fans already — but because you’ve gone and fallen in love with her.’
‘Let’s make a pact, then. You go and look for a nice girl who would make me a suitable consort, someone you aren’t jealous of and who you like, and when you’ve found her, and if I like her too, I’ll never think of Eline again. What do you say?’
She gave no answer and stood up, rubbing the tears from her eyes. She felt hurt by his flippant tone; clearly he hadn’t taken her seriously at all. She approached the table, pointed to the cup of tea, and said:
‘Your tea’s getting cold, Otto; I’d drink it now if I were you.’
Before he could respond she slipped away, full of contradictory feelings — on the one hand relieved to have spoken her mind and glad to have gained Otto’s confidence, on the other wondering whether she would not have done better to hold her tongue.
. .
For the past five mornings Eline had not seen Fabrice on her walk, and the disappointment soured her entire day. At first she was quiet, downcast and irritable, but soon she grew so morose that she lost all desire to sing, to the point where she cancelled her appointment with Roberts, her music teacher, as well as her Thursday afternoon singing session with Paul van Raat. Returning from her walk one morning at about half-past ten in pensive mood, she dropped onto her couch and, leaning back, unfastened her cloak with listless fingers. Ben’s company was too much for her, and she sent him off to the nursery forthwith. Her large hazel eyes, moist and glistening with unfulfilled longing, roamed idly about the room, lingering on the prints along the walls, the potted palms, the Canova figurines. She felt enveloped in a fog of despondency, and asked herself what the purpose of her life could be if all happiness were denied to her. To give her amorphous sorrow some kind of shape, she cast around for grievances and piled them up: what she needed was love, and there she was, with no one to love her. She was finding it increasingly difficult to get along with Betsy; they quarrelled frequently, and most of the time it wasn’t even her fault. Then there was Frédérique, who was noticeably cool towards her, for what reason she hadn’t the faintest idea, and although Madame van Raat seemed as fond of her as ever, Eline herself had not lately been minded to display the winsome, respectful openness that had endeared her to the old lady. There was no point to her life, the way she drifted aimlessly from one day to the next, and she yearned for some vague ideal, a dream without a particular contour but replete with figments of passion and love ranging from the exalted to the mundane, from the heights of idyllic romance to the simple, quiet joys of home and hearth.
She sighed, raising her hand to the overhanging aralia, and almost crushed the leaf between her nervous fingers as she tried to force her reveries to take a more determinate form. All at once, through an abrupt twist of her fancy, she saw herself with Fabrice, on stage, in a large city. They loved one another, they were famous, they were being deluged with wreaths and bouquets, and in her mind’s eye rose the entire vision as it had risen that time when she and Paul were singing those love duets.