Part 13 (1/2)
”Well,” said Esmeralda with a reluctance which caused a smile to tremble on Mr. Bamstra's lips, 'that would be very nice. ”
She looked at him a little uncertainly.
”Are you sure...?” she asked.
”Quite sure. We'll go past Mevrouw Twist's house and let her know.” He got to his feet.
”I've one or two telephone calls to make--you'll excuse me for a few minutes?”
Left alone with Jonkvrouw Bamstra, Esmeralda embarked on a little chat about nothing in particular. It was only after a few minutes that she realized that her hostess had taken the conversation firmly into her own hands and that it now consisted of nicely put questions about herself. She answered guardedly, trying at the same time to avoid telling the history of her life which her companion was so intent on learning. Presently she decided to counterattack.
”It seems strange that Thimo has never married,” she observed.
The grey eyes blinked and twinkled. Not in the least discomposed, her hostess observed gently: ”He would never marry until he was deeply in love, my dear, and he has never been that--until now, of course.” She smiled very sweetly.
”He will make a very good husband.”
Esmeralda murmured nothings while she thought about that; probably it was true. She told herself that she wasn't interested in Thimo's virtues and was relieved when the subject of their talk came back into the room.
They left shortly after, calling briefly at Mevrouw Twist's house and then driving through the heart of the city and on to the main road to den Haag, but just past Voorschoten, Mr. Bamstra took a narrow country road running through wooded country.
Esmeralda looked around her.
”I thought... that is, where are we going?”
”To my home.” They had come to a fork in the road and he sent the Bristol smoothly to the right.
”Oh, I thought you lived much nearer Leiden. Mother never said.. now that I come to think about it, she didn't tell me anything--only that it was nice.”
”Well, I daresay you both had a lot to talk about,” murmured Mr. Bamstra soothingly. They were pa.s.sing through a small village now, its red-tiled roofs lighted by the evening sun, and at its very end the same sun shone on to a large square house which came into their view, standing well back from the road behind iron railings. Its windows were immense and running across its white-painted front was a covered balcony with a great deal of ornamental ironwork, and since there was a stretch of water before the house, it was reached by means of a curved bridge, also of wrought iron. Mr. Bamstra swung the car through the gates and on to the raked gravel of the short drive and Esmeralda cried: ”Oh, do please stop a minute--it's lovely!”
She gazed her fill.
”You live here all alone?” she wanted to know.
”Alas, yes.” He sounded meek.
Well, you must marry very quickly and have a family. ”
”I'll bear it in mind,” said her companion, still meek.
”It will take time, of course,” Esmeralda pointed out, 'but it's a house which needs children, isn't it--and a donkey or two, and dogs and cats and ducks on the water. ”
”I do have ducks,” interpolated Mr. Bamstra with the air of a man producing a trump card.
”Oh, good.” She smiled at him.
”Your house in Friesland is beautiful too, but this one is perfect-quiet and peaceful...”
”It won't be by the time the children and donkeys and cats and dogs are in residence.”
”Don't be silly! You know quite well what 1 mean.”
”Oh, yes, 1 do,” he a.s.sured her, and his voice was quite serious now.
He started the. car again and allowed it to roll to a gentle halt before his front door, a ma.s.sive affair reached by a double step and embellished with a good deal of old fas.h.i.+oned bra.s.s work Esmeralda admired it while he took the keys from his pocket and selected one.
The bra.s.s work was polished to within an inch of its life, she noticed; whoever looked after Mr. Bamstra and his house did it very well indeed.
No one, looking at the plain face of the house from the road, could have guessed at the splendour within. The hall had the black and white tiles which most old Dutch houses possessed, but the walls were lined with linenfold panelling painted green, and above that there was a rich cream brocade wall hanging. The ceiling was elaborately painted with cherubs and wreaths of flowers, and its cornices were gilded, a graceful chandelier, bearing a large number of candles, hung from its centre. Against one wall was an enormous armoire, carved and inlaid, flanked by carved Italian chairs; the opposite wall held a side table in gilded wood with a gilded mirror above it. Any one of these articles of furniture were worthy of a place in a museum, guarded by red silken ropes and put on show to the public, never to be used again, but obviously their owner didn't see them in that light, for he cast his driving gloves and Esmeralda's parcels down on the side table, opened a drawer in the armoire and dropped his briefcase into it, then walked her past these priceless antiques without giving them a second glance. There were several doors opening into the hall, but he went past them all, under the arch of the graceful staircase against the further wall, and down a short pa.s.sage with a door at its end.
The room they entered was at the back of the house, overlooking a garden with a lawn like green velvet flanked by rose beds and herbaceous borders showing every colour of the rainbow. The room itself was large and lighted by a number of french windows, all of which were open. Two dogs came to welcome them as they went in; a large, mild-eyed ba.s.set hound and a black and white creature with very long legs, a square head with flopping ears and a tail like a fox's brush.
”Mortimor,” said Thimo, bending to caress the hound, 'and Mutt. ” He offered the other hand to the beast, who worried it gently, thres.h.i.+ng his tail around as he did so.
Esmeralda bent to scratch their heads.
”So these are your dogs--they're nice. Have you any cats?”
”One--Grimalkin, he belongs to Hanna.”
”Your housekeeper?” she ventured.
”Yes, she'll be along presently. Sit down, or would you rather stroll round the garden?”
She elected to stroll, and they spent half an hour or so amongst the flowers, the two dogs at their heels. The gardens, though not as large as those in Friesland, were big enough to contain a tennis court and a nicely concealed swimming pool. Esmeralda stomped to its edge and looked down into the clear water. Very soon she would be able to swim again.
”How much longer?” she asked, voicing her thoughts.
”Another week or so--let me see, when did I operate? Two weeks tomorrow, to be precise.” He had come to stand beside her.
”Any plans for your future yet?” he asked softly.
She shook her head.
”No, none.”
His: ”Time enough for that,” was still soft, so that she barely heard him say it.
They went indoors presently and Hanna came to meet them. She was a middle-aged woman, rather stout and with a round jolly face, and she gave the strong impression that even the most extraordinary happening couldn't shake her from habitual good humour. She beamed at them both, shook hands with Esmeralda and addressed herself to Thimo.
”Hanna wants to know if you would like to tidy yourself. We'll have our drinks in the drawing room--I'll be on the lookout for you when you come downstairs.”
She was led away by the still smiling Hanna, who forged up the curved staircase with surprising speed despite her bulk, guided her through a wide gallery which half encircled the hall, and opened a door half way down it.
The room was light and charming, its enormous window overlooking the gardens at the side of the house. Its delicate chintz curtains matched the bedspread, its furniture was satinwood and rosewood of the Regency period.
Esmeralda gave herself an impatient look in the s.h.i.+eld back mirror on the spindle-legged table, poked at her hair in a dissatisfied fas.h.i.+on, found her powder compact and lipstick and applied them, then went to look out of the window. Mr. Bamstra, the two dogs at his heels, came round the side of the house as she stood there, and she wondered how she would have felt if it had been Leslie.
The drawing room was furnished with more antiques, beautiful pieces which integrated nicely with the comfortable chairs set amongst their splendour.