I was invited to stay to luncheon by my lawyer, and I accepted the
invitation.
In the course of the conversation Van Beek said--
"The country seat, Runenburg, will be at your disposal on the 31st
of October next; but the house in town is let till the May following,
and the tenants would like to stay on, if it be agreeable to you. They
are very respectable people. How am I to act in the matter?"
I stared at him in surprise and perplexity. Such a strange feeling
came over me. I who have never possessed a stick or a stone in my life
(in fact, I always felt it a relief when the quarter's lodging bill was
paid), now I had to decide about a house in town and a country seat.
"I think, Mr. Van Beek, everything had better remain as it is until
the question of my marriage with Miss Mordaunt is settled."
"The Jonker forgets that that condition is not binding."
"I look upon it as binding, though such may not be the legal
interpretation of the will."
"Would you not like to see the house whilst you are in Utrecht? It
is beautifully situated, and well worth a visit, I can assure you."
"No, thank you, sir; but I should like to see the house in which my
aunt lived: from its surroundings I may be able to obtain a better
idea of her character."
"Oh, with pleasure, Jonker! I thought I had already told you," began
Van Beek, somewhat embarrassed, "that the old lady had bequeathed
it to me, on condition her maid should occupy it as long as she
lives. It is a splendid legacy; that I do not deny. But consider,
I have served her thirty years in all kinds of business, some of
which cost me much trouble and loss of time. And I may remind you
that there is no extra money set aside for my expenses as executor,
whilst I am recommended to assist the heir in every way, and to serve
him to the best of my ability by my counsel."
"My dear sir," I rejoined, "it was to be expected that aunt would
treat you generously. It is not my intention to dispute any of her
bequests. It will be a sort of pilgrimage for me."
"We will drive there at once after luncheon. It is only half an hour's
distance from the town."
I must confess the interior of my aunt's dwelling did not enable me to
gather any new ideas of the strange personage who once occupied it. The
old waiting-woman received us with coolness, and chanted the praises
of her late mistress in pious terms. The young cook shed a torrent
of tears, and was evidently astonished not to see me do the same;
whilst the man-servant eyed me askance, as if he feared I had come
there to cut off his legacy. The house was furnished in a moderately
comfortable style, most of the furniture being of the good solid
sort common in the reign of King William I., though there had been
an attempt to imitate the style of the First French Empire. There was
only one sofa in the house, and one armchair a la Voltaire, in which
Miss Roselaer reposed herself for just one hour after dinner every
day. She must have been a clever, active woman up to the very last.
"She was always making up her accounts or writing," said her maid,
"when she was not either reading or knitting."
"And what did she read?" I asked.
"Mostly 'unbelieving books'--those in the bookcase there; sometimes,
but very seldom, the Bible."
The "unbelieving books" were French, German, and English classics. I
pointed out to Van Beek that I should like to possess this small
but well-selected library. All the books are beautifully though not
showily bound, and they bear marks of assiduous reading. Among the
"unbelieving books" are the works of Fenelon, Bossuet, and Pascal,
peacefully assorted with those of Voltaire and the Encyclopaedists,
whilst Lavater, Gellert, Lessing, and Klopstock find a place by the
side of Goethe and Schiller, and the plays of Iffland and Kotzebue.
This was the first moment of unalloyed pleasure I have felt since I
came into my fortune, when I once more cast my eyes over the library
and beheld it with all the pride of ownership. I involuntarily put
forth my hand to snatch up one of the volumes, as if I thereby wished
to signify I was taking possession. Van Beek smiled and twinkled his
cunning little eyes; but the maid, who was standing by, looked at me
as though I had committed a sacrilege.
"I should rather have thought the Jonker would have preferred my
lady's Bible," she said.
"I should certainly like the Bible as well as the other books,
Mrs. Jones--that is to say, unless you wish to keep it yourself as
a memento."
"Oh no, Jonker! such a worldly, new-fashioned book I would not have
in my possession. I can't look upon it as God's word; and I could
never understand how my lady found edification in it."
"What's the matter with the Bible?" I asked Van Beek as we left
the house.
"Nothing, absolutely nothing. It is an ordinary States-Bible, only
not printed in the old-fashioned German type." [2]
Upon my word, I thought aunt must indeed have been pretty
liberal-minded to have put up with so bigoted a servant for so
many years.
The next day I set out for the small town of Zutphen, which is within
an easy drive of the Castle de Werve.