Leading the way with the familiarity that denotes a friend of the house, Oliver raps upon a side door situated at the further end of the courtyard, and almost immediately is admitted by the servant girl of the evening before; the lady’s maid, Wiarda, she of the haughty nose, apparently being engaged elsewhere.
They enter directly into what is the living room of the house. Here the family of Bodé Volcker, consisting of himself, Jakob, a boy of sixteen, who has just left school for the counting room, and the daughter, Wilhelmina, whose soft blonde curls and merry blue eyes have induced Oliver not only to put her upon his canvas but in his heart, are apparently engaged in a family discussion that is becoming highly flavored.
The old gentleman, an energetic but fat Fleming, with commercial expression and commercial eyes, is evidently excited. His cheeks are red and angry. The young lady’s blue eyes are equally angry, though they are slightly dimmed by latent tears, and one of the corners of her dear little mouth is twitching nervously. The boy, like most cubs of his age, is seemingly enjoying some dispute between papa and sister, for his blonde German face has a suppressed snicker in it. If he dared he would laugh.
“Ah, Oliver,” cries the merchant, rising with outstretched hands, “back from Brussels! A short trip,” and welcomes the painter with the easy familiarity of a friend of his house.
Miss Wilhelmina, on the contrary, greets Antony in haughty Spanish style, extending white fingers for her sweetheart to kiss. [[90]]
The cub merely snickers; “Hoe maakt je ’t?”
“I’ve taken the liberty of bringing a friend, Captain Guido Amati, of the Middelburg garrison,” remarks the painter.
“A friend of yours, Oliver! Welcome—welcome to everything in my house,” says Niklaas with Flemish hospitality, giving Guy cordial greeting.
“Captain Amati is known to the Doña Hermoine, and as the Duke’s secretary—”
It is unnecessary to say more; at mention of the Viceroy’s daughter Miss Wilhelmina most affably seconds her father’s hospitality and extends her white fingers for Spanish welcome. These Guy, making no mistake this time, kisses, perhaps lingering a shade too long over the soft, fair hand for the pleasure of his friend Oliver.