Je sais que j’aime d’un pur amour.”
Those brief moments of rapture were indeed, for the happy pair of lovers, an ever-memorable page in the book of their life; the fairest page, no doubt, and the happiest. Soon, too soon, they were to be roughly shaken out of their blissful dream.
“Anna!” cried a loud voice, “Matilda Meidema is looking for you everywhere. Where can you have got to, my child?”
It was the voice of Anna’s mother Laurentia, which suddenly startled our lovers out of their ecstasy. At a single glance the sharp-sighted woman had taken in the whole scene; but she betrayed no surprise, and, in the most winning manner, continued: “I left Matilda, only a moment ago, by yonder bed of roses—if you will follow this path, you can’t help meeting her.”
And, as her daughter stood irresolute:
“Oh,” said she, “you need not be anxious; Mr. van Nerekool will be kind enough to offer me his arm, so you see you will not leave him sorrowing and utterly forsaken. Make haste.”
These words uttered in the most friendly tone, yet so full of sarcasm, dismayed the young girl utterly, and caused her to hurry away with sad forebodings.
“And now, Mr. van Nerekool,” said Mrs. van Gulpendam, somewhat loftily, to the young man. “Now, it is our turn, will you kindly offer me your arm?”
Without a word, and with a courtly bow, van Nerekool complied; but he felt sick at heart, as though he had committed some crime.
“Come,” said she, “we will walk up this avenue of Tjemaras, it is lighter here and not so mysteriously dark as in that horrid Pandan grove. True, I don’t suppose you will have to tell me such pretty tales as you were just now whispering to Anna, Fie, Mr. van Nerekool, that was hardly a loyal action on your part, I must say—”