Eline had woken with a start at half-past seven — breakfast at De Horze was served at eight — and she had to hurry with her toilette. At the sound of her name she went, half dressed, to the window, which stood open. Looking outside, she saw Theodore’s two eldest girls, Marianne and Henriette, sixteen and fourteen years old.
‘Good morning!’ called Eline brightly.
‘What, are you up already? That’s quick! Will you come soon?’
‘In a moment.’
‘Hello Eline, hello Eline!’ shouted a new voice from outside. Eline looked again and saw Gustaaf, a handsome ten-year-old with bold blue eyes, ever-dirty hands and comic as a clown.
‘Hello there, Gus!’ she called.
‘I say, Eline, remember what you promised?’
‘No, what?’
‘That you’d marry me instead of Uncle Otto! You promised, remember!’
‘All right then, I will! But Gus dear, I must get ready now or I’ll be late for breakfast!’ said Eline, returning to the mirror to do her hair.
From the sunlit garden rose more voices, among which she could now distinguish Theodore’s bass tones as well as the excited cries of the Van Rijssel youngsters. She felt nervous, her eyes were still a little puffy with sleep and she could not get her hair to look as she wished.
‘Eline! Eline!’ they chanted.
‘Yes, yes, I’m coming!’ she called impatiently. Still tying her sash, she flew down the gloomy, oak-panelled corridor, down the grand staircase and out of the vestibule.
In the garden she saw Otto strolling with his sister, Catherine Howard. She was not beautiful, but had a pleasant, cheerful way with her, and a bright vivacity almost matching that of their younger brother Etienne.
‘Oh, Otto, I can so well imagine—’ sighed Catherine, clasping his arm. ‘I think she’s very sweet. In their letters Freddie and Mathilda gave the impression that she was a society girl, so I was rather expecting her to be one of those snooty young ladies from The Hague. I have only seen her once or twice before, you know, and that was quite a while ago. Wasn’t she living with that elderly widow, her aunt Vere, at the time?’
‘Yes, she was,’ said Otto.
‘Anyway, I think she’s quite the sweetest thing! She talks in such a gentle, sweet way, not in the least affected, and yet she’s so distinguished-looking, quite a lady. And as pretty as a picture. Beautiful, in fact.’
‘Do you think so?’ asked Otto.
‘Yes. You must be very proud of her, not every young man has your good fortune. Oh, there goes the bell! They like to make an early start at De Horze.’
They made their way to the conservatory at the back of the house, where they found Madame van Erlevoort presiding over the long breakfast table. She looked up with a fond smile as they entered. Eline was talking to Theodore, noting how sturdy he was, broad-shouldered and even slightly stocky, with his thick beard trimmed short, so unlike his brothers Otto and Etienne, but in his loud, cheery voice the family resemblance was unmistakable. His wife, young Madame van Erlevoort, or Truus, as he called her, was still busy with the preparations for breakfast, assisted by Mathilda and Frédérique. Nurse Frantzen was settling the Van Rijssel foursome on their chairs and tying napkins under their chins. Etienne came in from the garden with Cor, Theodore’s eighteen-year-old son, a midshipman on furlough. They were followed by the girls and the boys, Willy and Gustaaf, full of fun at the expense of their Uncle Howard, whose English they did not understand and whom they were trying to teach Dutch.
‘Good morning, Nily,’ said Otto, approaching Eline.
‘Morning, Otto,’ answered Eline, offering her hand. She found herself enjoying the noisy bustle of a happy family. To her, who as a child had had no one but her sister to play with and had spent several years in quiet tedium with her elderly aunt, the joyous mêlée, so very far removed from the soirées and balls she was accustomed to in The Hague, was exhilarating. Everyone was so friendly, too; they all seemed to be growing quite fond of her, even Frédérique. She didn’t mind when the little ones climbed onto her lap and patted her with their sticky fingers or disturbed her hair. She was seated between Otto and young Tina, on whom she doted and who kept hovering about her just as Cateau van der Stoor had done back in The Hague. That became her fixed place at table. Old Madame van Erlevoort was flanked by her two youngest grandchildren — Theodore’s youngest, Edmée or Memée, and Kitty Howard, her English son-in-law’s only child, and as she surveyed the long table alive with youthful gaiety she thought no one in the world could be happier than she, grey-haired but young at heart.
After breakfast Theodore proposed a visit to the Big Tree, which, he claimed, had one of the thickest trunks in Gelderland; he would go there on foot with Howard, Etienne and Cor. Eline and Otto would walk, too, they declared, and the three girls herded all the children, including Memée and Kitty, into the covered wagon.
The breakfast room was a shambles, the chairs in disarray and the table a chaos of platters and glasses while the floor was littered with napkins as well as Tina’s hat, Nico’s toy spade and Memée’s ball.
‘Are you sure you don’t mind all the commotion, Mama?’ asked Truus, taking Madame van Erlevoort’s hand. They were still seated at the breakfast table, surveying the ruins. ‘Really, I’m becoming rather worried. The children are so dreadfully noisy at times that it’s a relief when they’re absent.’
‘What a thing to say!’ responded Madame. ‘You ought to be ashamed of yourself!’
‘Well, my foursome often drives me to despair, too, Truus!’ Mathilda assured her.
‘Now don’t you worry about me, dear,’ said Madame. ‘I spent all winter looking forward to my summer visit to De Horze, and I am thrilled to be with you all. And it was sweet of you to invite Eline, too.’
‘I have invited them to London to join us for the season next year, once they are married,’ said Catherine. ‘I rather like her.’
Truus looked away, reaching for a crumpled napkin which she proceeded to smooth and fold.
‘And you, Truus?’ asked Madame van Erlevoort, noting her daughter-in-law’s hesitation. ‘You like her too, don’t you?’
‘Well, I don’t know her very well yet. I do think it very nice of her to adapt so entirely to our ways and habits, so that we can dispense with ceremony — for which I wouldn’t have time in any case; I’m far too busy. I appreciate that very much. But you know me, it takes me a while to form an opinion about people.’
‘That sounds remarkably diplomatic to my ears. As for me, I either like someone or I don’t. It’s as simple as that.’
‘Oh, I wasn’t being diplomatic, all I meant was that I hardly know Eline since she’s only been here a week. She seems very nice, but I’m not sure how I feel about her yet.’
It was on the tip of Mathilda’s tongue to say that she wasn’t sure how she felt about Eline either, despite having known her for years, but she kept silent.
‘Please don’t take it amiss, Mama, but now that we’re on the subject—’
‘Well?’
‘The thing is, there’s something about Eline that makes me think she might not fit in very well with the rest of the family. She adapts herself, certainly, but I’m not sure she does so with all her heart. You don’t mind my saying this, do you? There’s nothing I’d like better than to find that I’m completely mistaken about her, which I probably will, once I get to know her properly.’
She was loath to admit it, but she did not care for Eline. A large, sensible woman and a good mother, Truus ruled over her small empire with firmness and gentle determination, making her will pass as law, and was consequently accustomed to speaking her mind. Now, however, she had restrained herself, for she had noticed how touched her mother-in-law was by Eline’s attentions and displays of affection towards her; she did not wish to disappoint the old lady, who had evidently taken Eline to her heart as her son’s bride-to-be. Nonetheless, Truus couldn’t help feeling that Eline looked slightly out of place in their rural family setting, there was a certain artificiality about her, something that didn’t quite ring true. She was not to know that Eline was in fact feeling more herself than ever, that she felt happy in the bosom of the Van Erlevoort family, and that staying at De Horze had sharpened her faculties. All Truus could see was an over-civilised, pampered society girl affecting to love the simple life in the country, and this irked her, as did the large blue bow on Eline’s dress of smooth, pale-blue lawn.