Madame Verstraeten sighed and shook her head with an air of misgiving, but her husband, to Emilie’s relief, did not appear to take unkindly to her words. However, he did have objections: Lili was so young, still a child, really, and it would wiser for her to wait a while, so as to give herself a chance to make quite sure that he was Mr Right before making any definite commitment. He liked De Woude very much and believed him to be a hardworking and honourable young man, but still, he feared that Georges’ views of his financial situation were unrealistic, and that his optimism was inspired by the tender feelings he had for Lili. As for young De Woude’s claims to eschewing luxury, the old gentleman had some doubts. Emilie listened attentively and in some confusion, because in her heart she agreed with all Mr Verstraeten’s objections and yet, now that she had been persuaded into the folly of this visit — reluctantly, but for Georges’ sake — she was loath to let her beloved brother down. Now she wished to make it appear that the objections existed in Mr Verstraeten’s mind alone, and found herself hotly denying them. How tiresome to be obliged to say things one didn’t mean! She might even be doing Georges a disservice by pleading his cause with such fervour, but then the boy was so deeply in love, and who knows, he might be right after all! She was no oracle, and anyway there were plenty of households that managed perfectly well on a modest income, such as those of civil servants or first lieutenants. She felt flustered and foolish, but there was no going back now.
While siding with Georges, she became inwardly angry with him for putting her in this position. Why could she never refuse him anything? Why was she being forced to be an accomplice to his ruin?
But she was true to her word, and pleaded his cause so successfully that Madame Verstraeten went to fetch Lili, who burst into tears and showered Emilie with kisses. There would not be an official betrothal, it was decided, Madame not being in favour of long engagements — they sometimes went on for years, especially among those of modest means — and Emilie assured Lili that having a union of hearts with the blessing of her parents was an excellent compromise, under the circumstances. Anyway, it was better thus, was it not, because if on further acquaintance they found that they did not suit one another after all, there would be no harm done, and if on the other hand their friendship blossomed over time, well, so much the better. She ought to look on the bright side, why, she had gained quite a victory over her strict parents, so what more did she want? To marry on the instant — reception tomorrow, civil ceremony and church wedding in a day or two and then off to a tiny garret to live happily ever after? Surely not.
Lili smiled through her tears and kissed her parents. They knew best, and she would not go against their wishes.
. .
That afternoon Georges was invited to dinner, after which a splendid September evening was spent in the garden. It was late when Georges took his leave, late, too, when Marie and Lili retired to their room and undressed. Marie listened with kind forbearance to Lili’s excited chatter about her future with Georges: she would so love to travel, and Georges’ position in the Diplomatic Service meant that they would do just that — later, of course, much later; her mind was quite set on it, for all that he told her not to have too many illusions. She lay back and stretched herself comfortably between the cool sheets, her arms folded behind her tousled mane of pale blonde hair, and she smiled at her rosy visions.
Marie got into bed, too, and for a moment it was quiet in the darkened room. Then there was a knock at the door, which opened almost at once. The girls were startled.
‘Hush, hush, it’s only me,’ whispered a subdued voice, and they saw a short, stooped figure in nightclothes holding a lighted candle. ‘Hush, it’s all right. I’m just popping in for a chat.’
It was good old Dien, the Verstraeten family mascot, who was always so helpful when they staged plays or tableaux vivants. The old biddy approached, treading softly in her slippered feet, while the candlelight cast a yellow glow over the shrivelled face beneath the white nightcap.
‘Dear me, Dien! You gave me quite a turn! You look like a ghost!’ cried Marie.
‘Shush! Everyone is in bed, but I thought you’d probably still be awake. May I come in?’
‘Of course, Dien! Do come in!’ said Lili cheerfully. ‘What have you got to tell us?’
Dien seated herself on the side of Lili’s bed.
‘Your old Dien may be getting on in years, but that is not to say I don’t notice when something’s afoot. And so I thought to myself: I had better get down to the bottom of this. You little rascal!’ she said, wagging her finger at Lili.
‘I don’t know what you mean,’ said Lili.
‘Come now, dearie, you can’t fool your old Dien! Did you think I didn’t know why you pretended to be crying this afternoon and why Miss Emilie stayed in the conservatory for such a long time? I put two and two together,’ she continued with a wink of her sunken eye, ‘and sure enough, he turned up at half-past five and stayed for dinner again!’
‘Dien, you don’t know what you’re talking about!’ protested Lili.
‘You are mistaken, your old Dien knows what she knows well enough. And you too, you know what you’re about.’
‘What, then?’
‘Well, child, you’re quite right. He’s a steady young man if there ever was one. Such a kind face, with that neat little blond moustache. He looks just right for you, you being rather dainty yourself! They make a handsome pair, don’t you think, Miss Marie?’
‘They’re meant for each other!’ yawned Marie from under her covers.
‘So you like him, do you?’ asked Lili.
‘He’s a very fine young man!’ replied Dien. ‘Always very civil to me and to Bet, and when I let him in he always has a kind word to say. “How are you keeping today, Dien?” he’ll ask, or some such thing. Never puts on airs, and never forgets to wipe his feet, either.’
Lili broke into laughter.
‘Have I said anything wrong, Miss?’ asked Dien.
‘Not at all! And I’m so glad you approve of him.’
‘You’re too excited to go to sleep just yet, I’ll wager. In the daytime I’m always too busy, and this is just the right time for a little heart-to-heart talk. And your old Dien may give you some advice, eh? Well, I was a wife, too, and believe you me, child, marriage is a mixed blessing. Oh yes, it all seems a rose garden at first, but then the little ones arrive, and the cares come with them. I had three myself, children I mean, and what a struggle it was to bring them up! They caused me sadness, too, because one of my boys died when he was fourteen, and the other was a bit of a firebrand until he signed up for the colonial army like so many others. But my daughter’s a good girl, she’s a joy to me. Did you know that she married a tailor and went to live in Rotterdam?’
‘Yes, Dien, I know.’
‘So tell me, when do you think you’ll be marrying your young man?’
‘Oh, I don’t know yet. Not for a long time, though, and you’re not to gossip about it, do you hear?’