CHAPTER V.
MUSIC HATH CHARMS.
Just as Mr. Meidema was leaving the Residence in his brougham, another carriage drove up and Mr. van Nerekool walked up the steps which gave access to the gallery in which the company was assembled.
It may have struck the reader as somewhat strange that so young, so well-educated and so refined a girl as Anna van Gulpendam assuredly was, should have ventured to write to the young lawyer, and strange also that the latter should so speedily have answered her summons in person. But, in the first place, it is well to remember that, when she wrote that letter Anna, completely carried away by the sore distress of Dalima, and, in the kindness of her heart, most anxious to do what she could for her favourite servant, acted purely upon impulse; and had not stopped to consider that perhaps her action might be looked upon as somewhat forward and indelicate. Further it must be said, that although never a word of love had passed between them, yet they were united in the very strongest bond of sympathy—such sympathy as always will draw together true and noble natures whenever they happen to meet. As they were themselves perfectly honest and guileless; no paltry suspicions could possibly arise on either side. That this strong bond of sympathy did exist between Anna van Gulpendam and young Mr. van Nerekool, cannot be denied; but for the present at least, there was no more than this. Whether or not that bond would ever be drawn closer and give place to more intimate and tender relations the sequel will show.
“Good evening, madam,” said van Nerekool as he made his bow to the hostess, “I hope I have the pleasure of finding you well.”
“There’s that fool again! What has that booby come on board for I wonder?” grumbled van Gulpendam, while fair Laurentia answered the young man’s greeting as amiably as possible.
“Well, Mr. van Nerekool, this is indeed kind of you,” said she. “We are glad to see you! You do not wear out your welcome. We only too seldom have the pleasure of seeing you!”
“Very good indeed of you to say so, Mrs. van Gulpendam; but, you know, I don’t much care for cards and, in the presence of such an adept as you are, I cannot help feeling myself, to say the least, somewhat of a fâcheux troisième.” As he was speaking his eye at a glance took in the whole company but failed to light on her whom it sought. So turning to the gentlemen he said: “Well, Resident, I need not enquire after you, nor after your health, colonel, nor yours, my dear doctor; anyone can see there is not much the matter with you. How are the cards serving you this evening? I hope you are in luck,” continued he to the secretary seated at the other table.
“Not over well,” muttered van Nes. “I was getting on pretty fairly just at first but—”
“Ah, Mr. van Nerekool,” cried Mrs. van Gulpendam in the best of spirits; “you should have come a few minutes earlier, you should have seen my last hand. Why I held—”