. .
Jeanne wanted to be back by the time Frans returned, so they set off homewards.
‘Oh dear, I’m afraid I’ve made you sad, while all I wanted was to take your mind off things with a pleasant stroll,’ said Mathilda. ‘That comes of all my philosophising. I do hope you’ll forgive me.’
Jeanne could find nothing to say, so she merely shook her head with a smile to show that no, she was not sad. And it was true: deep in her heart she had to admit that while she had at first been distressed by Mathilda’s quiet despair, she realised, now that Mathilda had resumed her air of acceptance and self-possession, that the pity she felt for her friend made her own troubles appear positively trivial by comparison. Had she herself suffered a tragedy like Mathilda’s, she would never have got over it. She reproached herself for ever feeling ungrateful for all the good that had been bestowed on her, and felt remorse at having grumbled about her domestic circumstances while she had been spared so much misfortune! And dear Frans. . he had his flaws, naturally, he could be short-tempered and churlish with her when he was unwell, but he always came round quite quickly once he realised he was in the wrong. And he cared for her. He loved her. Her heart lifted with pride, and she found she could no longer be sad out of pity for Mathilda. That was selfish of her, but never mind, such moments of sweet satisfaction with the circumstances of her life were so fleeting and so rare — surely a moment’s egotism couldn’t do any harm?
Arriving at the grocery, Mathilda said goodbye and proceeded on her way. Jeanne, left to herself in her upstairs apartment, was eager for her children to return. They soon appeared, fresh-faced from their outing, and she hugged and kissed each one in turn, wanting to know exactly where they had gone and what games they had played, and when Dora pulled a long face she did her best to make her daughter smile again with a joke and a romp. No, indeed all was quite well with the world.
XVII
Lili was reading a book in the drawing room when the doorbell rang. It was Frédérique, making her final call of the afternoon.
‘Where’s Marie? Is she not in?’ asked Freddie.
‘Yes she is,’ responded Lili. ‘We went out earlier, but she’s upstairs now.’
‘Upstairs? How odd,’ said Frédérique. ‘She always seems to be upstairs when I call. You haven’t fallen out, have you?’
‘Oh no, not at all,’ replied Lili. ‘She’s probably drawing, or else writing.’
‘Writing what? A letter?’
‘Oh no, it’s a novella, I think, or something like that. But don’t say anything, will you? I think she means to keep it a secret.’
After a pause, Frédérique asked, ‘Do you find Marie changed lately?’
‘Changed? Marie? No, I haven’t noticed anything. Why do you ask?’
‘Oh, no reason, it’s just that she seems for ever occupied nowadays.’
‘But she’s always been like that, she’s always busy, just like Jan; I’m the only lazybones in the family, according to Papa.’
Frédérique made no reply. She was surprised that Lili had not noticed how edgy and reclusive her sister had become lately, but she told herself she was probably imagining it all, or Lili would not have been so dismissive.
‘You know we’re going to the Oudendijks’ this evening, don’t you?’ she said, to change the subject.
‘Yes, you mentioned the invitation. Ah, so you’ll be going. Just as well, too, because you’ve been awfully dull lately, haven’t you? Becoming indisposed each time you were invited, so it seems to me,’ jested Lili.
‘Well, I was upset,’ said Frédérique. ‘It was. . well, it was because of Otto’s crush on Eline. But all that’s settled now, and I’ve washed my hands of the whole affair. He knows best, I suppose. Anyway, it’s no use fretting, because. .’
She broke off, her eyes becoming moist and her lips tightening with suppressed emotion.
‘But Freddie,’ Lili said softly, ‘he’s known her for such a long time, ever since she moved in with the Van Raats, and if he loves her—’
‘Oh, I just want everything to turn out for the good, and I hope they’ll be very happy. The trouble is, I cannot abide Eline. Of course I do my best to be nice to her, but you know how hard it is for me to hide my feelings. Oh, do let’s talk about something else. It can’t be helped, in any case, and I’d rather not think about it either. Shall we go and look for Marie?’
Lili consented, and off they went upstairs, where they found Marie seated at the small writing table in the sitting room shared by the two sisters. Several pages of writing lay before her, but now she sat with one hand propping up her cheek and the other making squiggles on a blank sheet of paper. She gave a start when Freddie and Lili came in.
‘We’ve come to distract you,’ announced Freddie, smiling broadly. ‘Unless you’d rather be left in peace, of course.’
‘Oh no, not at all. And Lili never keeps me company, anyway.’
Lili made no comment. Her sister was being unfair, she thought, because it had been Marie’s idea to go upstairs by herself, not hers, neither were they in the habit of spending the afternoon together in their sitting room.
‘What have you been writing? Or is it a secret?’ asked Freddie with a sidelong glance at the sheets of notepaper.
‘No, not a secret,’ replied Marie with feigned indifference. ‘It’s something I started a while ago, a sort of travel diary of the excursions we went on last year, to Thüringen and the Black Forest, and I meant to turn it into a little story. But I’m bored with it now. I don’t know why I started it in the first place, really. It’s not like me to want to write stories, is it now?’
‘Why ever not?’ said Freddie with enthusiasm. ‘Won’t you read us something?’
‘Certainly not! Bore you with my schoolgirl prose? What do you take me for? It’s just something to keep me busy, that’s all. I was bored, so I took up writing, just as Lili has taken up reading. Do you know what I think, Freddie?’ Marie pulled a comically serious face. ‘I think we’re getting old! Yes, downright old I say, and dreary to boot. Do you realise it’s been months since we had a good laugh the way we used to?’
‘Or with Paul and Etienne!’ said Lili.
‘With or without them. We girls used to have such fun! But nowadays. . I don’t know about you, but I think we’re all getting to be as dull as ditchwater! There’s you, down in the dumps because you don’t like Eline, and Lili going all quiet and sentimental, spending all her time daydreaming, and here I am writing about blue mountains and hazy vistas out of sheer boredom.’
‘Where will it all end?’ laughed Freddie. ‘Yes, the future looks very dismal, especially in your case. I bet there’s some secret lurking behind those blue mountains and distant panoramas.’
‘A secret?’ echoed Marie. ‘Oh no, nothing like that. Nothing at all.’ She touched her hand to her temple, and Frédérique thought she was brushing away a tear. Lili concentrated on rearranging the books in one of the cabinets.
‘Marie!’ said Frédérique softly. ‘If there’s anything I can do to help, I wish you’d say so. I can see perfectly well that you are upset about something. Why keep it to yourself?’
Marie stood up and averted her face.
‘Why Freddie, you shouldn’t jump to conclusions! You’re as bad as Lili, seeing romantic reasons for everything. There’s nothing the matter, except that I’m rather bored, and I’d love to have some fun for a change. Well, hello there, master Jan!’
Jan stood in the doorway with a quizzical look.
‘What are you three up to? Gossiping about your beaus, I bet.’ he said.
‘Have you ever heard such presumption!’ exclaimed Marie, throwing her hands up in horror. ‘It’s your inborn male vanity making you say that, mere stripling though you are; just you wait, I’ll show you!’