clouds swimming with us in sky and under water, where they moved like
shining fish down in the blue depths. Butterflies chased us, white,
scarlet, and gold, whirling through the air as flower-petals blow in a
high wind; and my thoughts flitted as they flitted, for I was too drunk
with that elixir, joy of life, to care, as the others seemed to care,
that Sir Philip Sidney died at the battle of Zutphen; that the River
Geldern Yssel was cut thirteen years B.C. to connect the Rhine with
something else; that by-and-by we were going to see Het Loo, the Queen's
favorite place; or indeed anything else that could possibly be improving
to the mind. I cared only that Nell and Phyllis were more beautiful than
ever, and that I still might have a chance--with one of them.
"Let Alb score a little," I thought, "by his knowledge of history and
Royalties past and present. _I'll_ paint each of the girls a picture,
and they'll forget that he exists."
But I did not yet know my Alb and his resources. I had forgotten that
Gelderland is his special "pitch," the province he annexed at birth.
Fate, however, did not forget.
We got to Appeldoorn that first night; and the palace of Het Loo is
close to Appeldoorn, so we drove out and slept at a hotel near the
palace gates. Here it was that the worm turned. In other words, Alb
became a _persona grata_, while I remained an ordinary tourist.
Alb had influence in high quarters. He got up early, and went off
mysteriously to exert it, returning in triumph as the rest of us,
including Tibe, were breakfasting on the broad veranda of the hotel in
the woods. Anybody could go into the palace-grounds, but he had got
permission to take his friends into the palace itself.
The girls were delighted at this, and so was the L.C.P., who flew off so
quickly to get a "refill" for her note-book, that Tibe nearly upset an
old peasant with a broad hat and silver ear-rings, who was eating and
drinking of the best, at a table near ours.
All this feminine enthusiasm over Alb's idea piqued me just enough to
keep me from joining the party. I volunteered for dog duty while the
others saw the palace, and by special favor, Tibe (in leash) wandered
reluctantly with me through the fragrant, green alleys of Het Loo. With
me he saw shining lakes, and crossed miniature bridges guarded by mild
stone lions, at which he smelled curiously; with me he sadly visited the
Queen's bathing-place, and the pretty little dairy and farm, reminiscent
of poor Marie Antoinette's beloved Trianon; and when we were joined by
his mistress and the others he was ungrateful enough to pretend that I
had not amused him.
Alb was in the ascendant, and the gilt had not had time to wear off the
gingerbread before we arrived at Arnhem. We got there in a day from
Appeldoorn, by going back over our own tracks as far as Dieren, where
the beautiful little canal seemed to welcome us again, as if we were old
friends. Through the thick reeds on either side we made a royal
progress, a wave of water swiftly marching ahead to give them news of
our approach, so that, as we came toward them, the nearest might bow
before us, bending their graceful green heads down, down, under the
water, and staying there until we had passed on.
It was like a journey through a long water-garden, exquisitely designed
in some nobleman's park, until a thunder-storm rolled up to darken the
landscape, and send Phyllis for protection to her "brother's" side. I
should certainly have asked her, there and then, to forget the Viking,
if a tree near by had not been struck by lightning at that instant, and
Nell, in her sudden pallor and stricken silence, had not been more
beautiful than I had seen her yet.
I did not remember until we had been settled for a night and part of a
day at a hotel with a view and a garden, that Alb was more at home in
Gelderland than elsewhere in Holland. But he was treated with marked
respect at the Bellevue, and people took off their hats to him in the
street with irritating deference. We went about a good deal in the town,
seeing historic inns and other show things (the best of which was a room
once occupied by Philip the Second's Duke of Alva), therefore I had many
opportunities of increasing my respect for Alb as a personage of
importance, if I had been inclined to profit by them; and on top of this
arrived his automobile from some unknown lair. There were some famous
drives to be taken in the neighborhood of Arnhem, he explained in that
quiet way of his, and he had thought it would be pleasant to take them
in his car.
We started out in it on the second morning, and hardly had we left the
big pleasure-town with its parks and villas, when we plunged into
forests as deep, as majestic, as those round Haarlem and The Hague;
forests tunneled with long green avenues of silver-trunked beeches,
where the light was the green light which mermaids know. Here and there
rose the fine gateways and distant towers of some great estate, and
Brederode told us that Gelderland was famous for its old families and
houses, as well as for the only hills in Holland.
"Fifty or sixty years ago," said he, "the nobility of Gelderland was so
proud that no one who wasn't noble was allowed to buy an estate and
settle here."
"Allowed!" exclaimed Nell. "How could they be prevented if they had
money and an estate was for sale?"
Brederode smiled. "There were ways," he answered. "Once a rich banker of
Amsterdam thought he would like to retire and have a fine house in
aristocratic Gelderland. He bought a place, and wished to build a house
to please his fancy; but no architect would make his plans, nobody would
sell him bricks or building material of any kind, and he could get no
workmen. Every one stood in too great awe of the powerful nobles. So you
see, boycotting isn't confined to Ireland--or America."
"What happened in the end?" asked Nell. "I do hope the man didn't give
in."
"Dutchmen don't, even to each other," said Alb. "The banker was as
obstinate as his enemies. He went to enormous expense, got everything
outside boycot limits, put up temporary buildings on his place for
workmen from Rotterdam, fed them and himself from Rotterdam, and so in
the end his house was built. But things are different in Gelderland now.
People who were rich then are poor, and glad of any one's money. Arnhem
is as cosmopolitan as The Hague, though it has the same curious
Indian-Dutch set you find there, keeping quite to itself. A good many of
the famous old places have been sold in these days to the _nouveaux
riches_, but some are left unspoiled, and I'm going to show you one of
them."
With that he drove his car through a wide, open gateway, a lodge-keeper
saluting as we went by.
"Oh, but how do you know we may go in?" asked Phyllis.
"I'm sure we may," said Brederode.
"Are strangers allowed?" the L.C.P. questioned him.
"Harmless ones, like us."
Far away a house was in sight, a beautiful old house, built of mellowed
red brick, its great tower and several minor turrets mirrored in a
lily-carpeted lake which surrounded it on two sides, like an
exaggerated moat. "Fifteenth century," said Brederode. "But the big
tower dates from twelve hundred and fifty."
We all stared in respectful awe of age and majesty, as Alb stopped the
car at a small iron gate about two hundred yards from the house. The
gate, guarded by giant oaks, led through a strip of shadowy park to a
glorious labyrinth of rose-gardens, and gardens entirely given up to
lilies of every imaginable variety, while beyond these was a
water-garden copied from that of the Generalife, which I saw last year
at Granada. Nor was this all of Spanish fashion which had been imitated.
Pedro the Cruel's fountain-perforated walks in the Alcazaar of Seville
had been copied too, and were put in operation for our amusement by a
gardener with whom Brederode had a short confab. When we passed again
through the rose and lily gardens, which were in a valley or dimple
between two gentle hills, all three of the ladies were presented with as
many flowers as they could carry, and Alb informed them that they would
find more, of other varieties, waiting for them in the car.
"What a divine place!" exclaimed Nell, as we came once more to the
little gate whence we had the double picture of the house and its
reflection in the lake. "I don't see how there could be any lovelier
one, even in England. How I should like to live in that wonderful old
house! I'd have my own room and a boudoir in the thirteenth-century
tower."
"Would you care to go in?" Alb asked, looking more at Phyllis than at
Nell.
Nell flushed and left Phyllis to answer. "It would be quite like a fairy
tale; but of course we can't, as the people of the house are evidently
occupying it."
"All the better," said Brederode. "The lady of the house will receive us
and give us tea."
"No, no!" cried Nell. "It would be horried to intrude upon her."
"You'll find she won't consider it an intrusion," Alb insisted. "In
fact, I called yesterday and said I was bringing you out to-day, so it
is an invitation."
The hall was stone paved, with glorious oak walls and a wonderful
ceiling. There were a few Persian rugs, which must have been almost
priceless, a quantity of fine old portraits, and two or three curious
suits of armor. Beyond was a Chinese room, done in the perfect taste of
a nation which loves and understands Oriental treasures; and then we
came into a white-and-gold paneled boudoir, sparsely but exquisitely
furnished with inlaid satinwood which I would wager to be genuine
Sheraton.
In this room sat a woman who rose to welcome us, a woman worthy of her
surroundings. Her dress was nothing more elaborate than black-and-white
muslin, but with the piled silver of her hair, her arched, dark brows
and cameo features, her great eyes and her noble figure, she looked a
princess.
"Ah, Rudolph," she exclaimed, in the English of an Englishwoman born and
bred, "how glad I am that you could come, and bring the friends of whom
you have written me so often."
"My mother," Brederode said; and introduced us.
I am not ashamed to confess that I was tongue-tied. _What_ had he
written? How much had he told? In what way had he described--some of us?
Nell, who usually has some original little thought to put into words,
apparently had no thoughts at all; or they lay too deep for utterance.
The L.C.P. was taciturn too, which was prudent on her part, as this
exquisite lady had probably heard her son speak of his Scotch friend
Lady MacNairne. Had she ever met Aunt Fay, I knew that Alb was too wise,
if not too loyal, to have brought us into her power; still I did not
feel safe enough to be comfortable. And even if I had been personally at
ease, I should have been too busy with my own thoughts to do credit to
myself or country in conversation. As I sipped caravan tea from a
flower-like cup of old Dresden, I wondered what were Nell's sensations
on beholding the home and mother of the despised skipper whom it had
been her delight to snub and tease.
Evidently he is adored, and looked up to as the one perfect being, by
his mother, who would hardly have smiled as graciously on the beautiful
Miss Van Buren, could some imp have whispered in her ear how that young
lady treated her host, when he was nobody but a poor skipper on board a
motor-boat. Through some careless word which gave a turn to the
conversation, I discovered that Liliendaal is not the only house reigned
over by Jonkheer Brederode, alias Alb. There's one at The Hague, but
they "find Liliendaal pleasant in summer."
Indeed, it appears to me that "pleasant" is only a mild and modest word
for the place; yet its owner can cheerfully desert it, week after week,
to rub along as a mere despised Albatross on board a tuppenny ha'penny
motor-boat, running about the canals of Holland.
Of course, he is in love, which covers a multitude of hardships. But it
isn't as clear as it used to be, which Angel he is in love with. Perhaps
the latest snubbing was the last drop in his cup, which caused the whole
to overflow, and he had to fill it up again--for another. He poured
scorn upon me, in our first passage of arms, for being in love with two
girls at once; but how much more poetical and at the same time more
generous to love two at a time than not to love one well enough to know
your own mind!
In any case, it was Phyllis who shone on the occasion of our call at
Liliendaal, and it was she who seemed to make the impression upon the
gracious mother. Whether it was the fact that she is English, or whether
it was because she could talk to her hostess--as if she knew
them--about various distinguished titled beings whom the lady of
Liliendaal had not seen for a long time; or whether it was because
Phyllis once had a cousin who wrote a book about the Earls of Helvelyn
(the lady's father was an Earl of Helvelyn) at all events the honors
were for Phyllis; and if Alb really had changed his mind about the two
girls, as the L.C.P. is continually saying, he ought to have been
pleased.
[Illustration: _It was Phyllis who shone at Liliendaal_]
Phyllis and my alleged aunt were both particularly gracious to him on
the way back to Arnhem, as if he had risen in their esteem now that they
realized what an important man he is; but afterwards when I accused the
L.C.P. of this piece of snobbishness, she vowed that it was only because
they both realized how much he was giving up for the sake of--somebody.
Just because I could not be sure which one the somebody was, and whether
he were more likely to prevail, after this _coup d'etat_, I was uneasy
in my mind, with the new knowledge of Alb's greatness. What are my
dollars to his beautiful old houses, and a mother who is the daughter of
an English earl? I suppose these things count with girls, even such
adorable girls as Nell Van Buren and Phyllis Rivers.
A thing that happened the same evening has not relieved my anxiety.
At the Hotel Bellevue, each room on the floor where we live, has its own
slip of balcony, separated from the next by a partition. I was sitting
on mine, after we had all said good-night to each other, smoking a
cigarette and waiting for the moon to rise, an act which she selfishly
postpones at this time of the month, so as to give her admirers as much
trouble and as little sleep as possible.
Suddenly I heard Phyllis's voice on the other side of the balcony
partition.
"Dearest," she was saying dreamily, "isn't it strange how, on a night
like this, you seem to see things clearly, which have been dark
before?"
"It isn't so very strange," Nell answered practically. "The moon's
coming up. And that's a sign we ought to be going to bed."
"I didn't mean that," said Phyllis. "I mean, there's a kind of
_influence_ on such a beautiful night, which makes you see into your own
heart."
"What do you see?" asked Nell.
I wanted to know what, as much as Nell did, and a great deal more,
judging from her tone. But unfortunately I had no right to try and find
out, so I got up, and scraped my chair and prepared to go indoors. But I
had forgotten to shut my match-box when I lighted a cigarette a few
minutes before, and now I knocked it off the table where it had been
lying, scattering over the floor every match I had left in the world.
If they intended to say anything really private, I had made noise enough
to prevent them from doing it; so I thought I might conscientiously
remain and pick up some of the matches. The _personnel_ of the hotel had
gone to its beds, therefore, if I wanted to smoke later, it must be
these matches or none.
"After all, I'm not quite sure what I _do_ see, when I come to ask
myself, like that, in so many words," said Phyllis. "I do wish you'd
advise me. Will you, dear?"
"Of course, if I can," came the answer, a little shortly.
"Well, supposing _you_ cared more than you thought you ought, for a man
it couldn't be right to care for at all, because he belonged to some one
else, what would you do?"
"Try to stop caring for him," said Nell.
"That's what I think, too; only it might be hard, mightn't it? Do you
suppose it would be easier if a girl did her best to learn to love
another man, who was free to care for her, and did seem to care for her,
so as to take her mind off the--the _forbidden_ man?"
No answer. (I realized that they could not have heard the falling
match-box, and I was at my window-door now, going in. But the door is a
Dutch door, which means that it is cleaned and varnished every day; and
the varnish stuck.)
"You might tell me what you think, Nell. You have had so much
experience, in serials."
"Oh!" exclaimed Nell. "I--I _hate_ you, Phil!"
Their door evidently did not stick, for suddenly it slammed, and I
guessed that Nell had rushed in and banged it shut behind her.
* * * * * *
Now, it is the next day but one after this episode, and we are at
Utrecht, after having visited an old "kastel" or two more in the
neighborhood of Arnhem, and then following the Rhine where it winds
among fields like a wide, twisted ribbon of silver worked into a fabric
of green brocade. Its high waves, roughened by huge side-wheel steamers,
spilt us into the Lek; and so, past queer little ferries and a great
crowded lock or two, where Alb used his Club flag, we came straight to
the fine old city of which one hears and knows more, somehow, than of
any other in Holland.
I planned to do a little painting here; but, after all, I don't seem to
take as much interest in composing pictures as in trying to puzzle out
the meanings of several things.
I suppose a man never can hope to understand women; but even a woman
sometimes fails to understand another woman. For instance, goaded by
unsatisfied curiosity to know, not only my own fate, but everybody
else's fate, all round, I was tempted to take advantage of nephewhood,
and put the case, as I saw it, to the L.C.P.
I ventured to tell her what I overheard between the girls on their
balcony.
"Now, you must know," I said, "that I'm in love with Phyllis."
"I thought it was Nell," said she.
"So did I, for a while; but I've discovered that it's Phyllis. And I
shall be very much obliged to you if you can tell me something. In fact,
if you _can_, your dear nephew Ronny will present his aunt with a
diamond ring."
"You mean if I tell you what you want to hear."
"No. It must be what you honestly think."
"I don't want a diamond ring," said she, which surprised me extremely.
It was the first time anything worth having has been mentioned which she
did not want, and, usually, ask for.
"A pearl one, then," I suggested in my astonishment.
"I don't want a pearl one--or any other one, so you can save yourself
the trouble of working through a long list," replied the lady who is
engaged to be my obliging relative. "But go on, and ask what you were
going to ask. Anything I can do for you, as an aunt, I will. I am paid
for it."
This grew "curioser and curioser," as Alice had occasion to remark in
her adventures. But having embarked upon my narrative, I went on----
"Whom do you think Phyllis meant when she spoke of trying to learn to
love a man who seemed to love her? Was it Alb, or----"
"Mr. Robert van Buren, perhaps you were going to say," cut in the L.C.P.
"No, I don't mean him," I answered hurriedly. "Modesty forbids me to
mention the name in my mind."
"But it was given to you by your sponsors in baptism. Will it make you
very unhappy if I say I don't think that _was_ the name in her mind?"
"I shall have to bear it," I said. "But, of course, I shall be unhappy."
"We all seem to be unhappy lately," remarked the L.C.P.
"Except you."
"Yes, except me, of course," she responded. "Why should I be unhappy?
Tibe loves me."
"You don't deserve it; but so do we all," said I.
She brightened.
"You are harmful, but necessary," I went on. "We are used to you. We
have even acquired a taste for you, I don't know why, or how. But you
have an uncanny, unauntlike fascination of your own, which we all feel.
At times it is even akin to pain."
"Oh well, the pain will soon be over," said she. "We're at Utrecht now.
Soon we'll be going to Zeeland, from Zeeland back to Rotterdam; and
that's the end of the trip--and my engagement. It will be 'good-by'
then."
"I feel now as if it would be good-by to everything," I sighed. "I never
nursed a fond gazelle----"
"You tried to nurse two," said she. "You're like the dog who dropped the
substance for the shadow."
"Which is which, please?--though to specify would perhaps be ungallant
to both. Besides, I haven't dropped either of them. If Phyllis is lost
to me, I may still be able to fall back on Nell, whom nobody else seems
to claim at present."
"Oh, don't they?" murmured the L.C.P.
"Do they?"
"She may have left dozens of adorers at home, to pick up again when she
goes back. She's a beautiful girl," said her chaperon.
"Radiantly so, and I used to think also possessed of a beautiful
disposition. But since she flew out at poor little Phyllis, who was
asking for advice and comfort, and cried, 'I hate you, Phil--' Now,
you're a woman. What had Phyllis said to put her in a rage?"
The L.C.P. laughed. "Enough to put a saint in a rage," said she. "And
Nell isn't a saint. But they've been more devoted to each other than
ever, since, so she must have repented and apologized, and been
forgiven, before the moon went down. Oh, you poor puzzled creature! I
wouldn't be a _man_ for anything!"
And that was all the satisfaction I could get from her. I remain as much
in the dark as ever. But Robert van Buren, his sisters, and his fiancee
are arriving immediately, and perhaps I may get enlightenment during the
visit. I ought to have some reward, since it is through me that the
Viking is coming with the females of his kind, at this particular time.
In a moment of quixotic generosity at Enkhuisen, I promised Phyllis, as
a newly adopted, if reluctant, brother, that I would make everything
right for her. Afterwards, I was inclined to repent of the plan which
had sprung, Minerva-like full-grown and helmeted, from my suffering
brain. But it was too late then. I had to keep my word, for I was sure
that, deep down in her mind, Phyllis was expecting me to perform some
miracle.
Rather than disappoint her--and lower my self-esteem--I had a talk with
Robert the day he was leaving. Not an intimate talk, for we aren't on
those terms; but I managed to get out of him that he was parting from us
before he had intended because of a letter from the fiancee.
"Young ladies are a little exacting when they are engaged, I suppose,"
said the poor fellow. "They feel they have more right than others to a
man's society."
Then it was that I asked why he didn't bring Freule Menela, chaperoned
by the twins, to Utrecht instead of waiting until we had got as far as
Zeeland, which the fiancee might think too long a journey with such an
object in view. He said that he would ask her.
"Don't seem too anxious," said I, airily. "And don't tell her you want
her to be better acquainted with your cousin and step-cousin. Just
remark that it will be a jolly excursion, eh? And you might add that
Brederode and I--particularly I--are awfully keen on seeing her."
"Very well, I will give that message," said he. And I think he probably
did give it, or something like it; for Nell had a telegram from him,
while we were still doddering about in Friesland, asking if he might
bring the ladies on a visit to Utrecht.
Now, it is "up to me" to carry out that plan made on the impulse of an
unselfish moment.
Moral: do not have unselfish moments.
XXIX
I believe that, in the dark ages, I was rather a good little boy. I used
often to tell the truth, and the whole truth, even when most
inconvenient to my pastors and masters. I gave pennies to the poor,
unless I very much wanted them myself; I said "Now--I--Lay--Me," every
night, and also in the morning till advised that it was inappropriate;
and I sang in a boy's choir, so beautifully and with such a soulful
expression in my eyes, that people used to pat my curls, and fear that I
was destined to die young.
In those days, or even until a few weeks ago no one who looked at me
would have believed me capable of plotting against young and innocent
girls, annexing aunts on the hire system, or deluding uncles-in-law with
misleading statements. Yet these things I have done, and worse; for I
have kept my word to Phyllis Rivers.
If I must commit a crime, my artistic sense bids me do it well; and
then, of course, when one has started in a certain direction, one is
often carried along a little farther than one intended to go at first.
That was what happened to me, in the affair of Robert van Buren and his
fiancee.