“That a kiss has been snatched from me too,” continued Laurentia, with a smile of pleasure at the remembrance, “but that occurred in open daylight, in the presence of my parents, and not in the darkness of a Pandan grove.”
“Now, madam,” said van Nerekool, very seriously, “allow me, I pray you, to tell you how it all happened. For about a twelvemonth I have been visiting at your house. At first my visits were but rare, of late they have become much more frequent. Now, you are a clever woman and you cannot have failed to see the reason of this. I had made the acquaintance of your daughter, and the more thoroughly I began to appreciate her amiable and noble character, the more deeply did the shaft which had struck me at my first visit, enter into my heart. How shall I go on, madam—the simple truth is that soon I felt that at her side only I could be truly happy. But;—though I ventured to hope that Miss Anna had no aversion for me—and though I thought that I might reckon upon your friendly aid also—yet I very soon began to notice that I failed to gain the good-will of Mr. van Gulpendam. Indeed, I may say, that he positively dislikes me. That feeling of dislike he could not always repress, though he observed towards me the forms of strict politeness; and, though I cannot complain of any purposely inflicted slights, yet now and then his repugnance would show itself in a manner which, to me, has been wholly unmistakable. This, in some measure, discouraged me. Then again, I know that, as yet, my income will not suffice to set up housekeeping on however modest a scale. Thus, you yourself, my dear madam, must have perceived that I left Miss Anna in utter ignorance of my affection for her. Whether or not she may have suspected my passion, I do not dare to say; but certainly I uttered no single word of love to her—”
“But Mr. van Nerekool—”
“Allow me, madam, to finish my story: certainly I uttered no single word of love to her until this evening when, in the giddy whirl of the dance, the secret which I had so long and so faithfully kept escaped me. I was beside myself with joy when the first declaration of my love was not met with a refusal. And, as a loving mother, can you now blame me because, as we were walking together a few moments later in this garden, I was driven, by the magic power of this lovely scene, by the solemn quiet of this enchanting spot, and by the seductive notes of the music which could not but find an echo in my heart, again to declare my love? Can you blame me because, as I held in my arms the pure angel of my dreams and clasped her to my heart, I sealed the solemn compact of our love with a kiss as pure and as holy—I swear it—as the angels in Heaven might interchange?”
Charles van Nerekool spoke with the fire, with the enthusiasm, of truth. His words were nothing like the commonplaces of society, nothing like the phrases which sound like a mere sentimental lesson learnt out of the romantic pages of Georges Sand, of Georges Ohnet or of Hector Malot. His words were eloquent, manly; and came from a true and loyal heart, and they made a deep impression on the fair lady who leaned on his arm, Laurentia—always very impressible—closed her eyes for a moment, as if dazed by the power and purity of his love. Had Mr. van Gulpendam ever, thought she, thus declared his love to her—had he ever spoken of her in such terms? Alas! no; he was a man wholly absorbed in the love of money; and—and—But she—she?—was she free from those faults which now she looked upon with such horror in her husband? For one single moment she was forced to confess herself guilty, for a single moment better thoughts prevailed. But this was only for a moment. The instant after she began to feel jealous of her daughter. Yes, jealous and angry at the thought that Anna has succeeded in winning so pure, so proud, so manly a love—a love which she herself had never either felt or inspired. Moreover she put no faith in so much purity and sincerity as the words of van Nerekool evidently conveyed. Her very nature forbade her to do so. All affection, all love between persons of opposite sexes was, in her estimation, the mere expression of material passion and the consequence of carnal desire. Purity and love were, to her, mere sounds, which, if she could understand them at all, only served as a cloak for far different sentiments. To her they were—they could be—nothing more. Under the influence, therefore, of such miserably grovelling views, she answered sarcastically: “Yes, I can understand all that! Immeasurable bliss under the Pandan bushes! Now, Mr. van Nerekool, shall I tell you what I think of that chaste kiss and all the rest of it?—Well, I think that they are merely fine names for something which might be expressed in totally different language. Why! you, as a man, you surely must know what meaning the world attributes to a kiss!”
“Pardon me, madam,” replied Charles, somewhat sadly, “I am, as yet, very young and very inexperienced.”
“Yes,” said Laurentia with a mocking laugh, “I can quite perceive that.”
“Oh madam,” cried the young man, “I beg you let us not waste time in useless playing with words. Yes I am young, I repeat it, I am inexperienced, I have but little knowledge of the sentiments which seem to pass current in the world; feelings which appear to be ticketed like the samples of some commercial traveller, each to fit into their own compartment—one affection of the heart another of the head, another of the senses. Of all this I know nothing. I can say but one thing, I truly, and in all good faith and honesty, love your daughter; and especially, my love for her is a pure love in which the pursuit after pleasure has not once entered. Believe me when I say this in all the sincerity of my heart. Such insinuations I never expected to hear from her who is the mother of her whom I honour and respect above all things. I love Anna with all my heart and with all my powers, and I feel within me the glorious strength which honourable love alone is able to impart.”
These principles of the young man spoken out so forcibly and in so manly a spirit, baffled Mrs. van Gulpendam completely. She felt at once that it would be no use whatever to try and play any idle games with him.
“But,” said she somewhat impatiently, “what then do you want of me?” This she asked quite forgetting that it was she who had asked van Nerekool to give her his arm, and that it was she who had brought up this conversation—a conversation which seemed to be turning greatly to her discomfiture.