Henk wanted to give him his hand, but Vincent had already turned his back on him, and Henk saw him slowly picking out his way through the throng, now and then raising his hat with a languid movement.
Very dissatisfied with himself, Henk remained seated alone at his table. After a while, however, Eline and Otto returned and laughingly expressed their sympathy for his loneliness. Betsy too was soon after brought back by Hydrecht, whose hand she cordially pressed. It was late; many people had already left before the last number, and now that the concert was at an end, the crowds slowly moved away through the Kurhaus. Gradually the noise of the music and laughter-laden atmosphere subsided into a restful calm, whilst here and there the gas-lamps were already being extinguished, and only a stray group or two were still sitting down, enjoying the balmy air, which was growing fresher and purer at every moment.
“It’s glorious here; shall we sit a little longer?” asked Betsy.
“Let us rather have a drive round,” said Eline; “at least unless you think it will be getting too late, and the horses are not tired, Henk.”
Betsy thought Eline rather eccentric to want to drive so late at night, but still the idea pleased her. And they walked to the rear of the Kurhaus, where the carriage was waiting.
Eline thought the wind had risen, and preferred to sit forward under the half-closed hood, next to Otto. Betsy told Dirk to drive home through the Van Stolkpark.
The outlines of the villas looked dim and shadowy between the vague, dark masses of foliage, through which now and then a gentle gust of wind rustled with a lulling sound. But the clatter of the horses and the light rumbling of the wheels along the road [[172]]drowned the sighing of the wind with a noise that remained unbroken by words.
Betsy lay back comfortably, and enjoyed the cool night air. Henk was still under the uncomfortable influence of his conversation with Vincent, whom he thought he had hurt, and Eline let her thoughts wander away in a delicious reverie. She had removed her hat, and she bent a little towards Otto, and listened to his regular breathing. He, effectually hidden in the shadow of the raised hood, had his arm round her waist, and had drawn her a little towards him, so that her cheek nearly lay on his shoulder. And she was very happy, she wished nothing more than thus, in his arm, to be driven along in the evening breeze, beneath the gently rustling foliage. She could conceive of nothing sweeter, than thus to lean against him, to feel the passage of his breath through her hair, and his arm about her waist like a girdle of love.
And yielding to the delicious influences of the moment, she let her head fall on his shoulder.
“What name have you thought of for me?” she whispered in his ear.