"I'll go back to the house, telephone the hospital and then come back here.

Will you be all right? I'll be ten minutes at the most then I'll stay here until the ambulance comes and you can go back to the house and do whatever is most urgent for the baby. I'll find Sieska and ask her to have some boiled water with salt and sugar ready in one of little Adam's bottles. He must be kept away from this sc.r.a.p I'll warn them about that."

He had gone, the infant in the crook of his arm.

The girl grew slowly paler and Esmeralda got down on to the gra.s.s beside her to check her breathing and her pulse. Her bare arm was still cold and clammy despite the sun's warmth, half shaded by the trees around them. Indeed, in other circ.u.mstances, it would have been a charming spot, but now, with nothing in sight and Mr. Bamstra's rea.s.suring presence no longer there, Esmeralda felt uneasy.

"He'd better be quick," she told herself in a loud encouraging voice.

"Well, he's done his best," stated Mr. Bamstra from the hedge behind her.

"He took a short cut."

A.

He lifted a long leg over the brambles and came to bend over the girl.

"Be off with you," he said without looking up.

"The baby's in the downstairs cloakroom with Sieska. I've wrapped it in a towel and told her not to touch it until you get there."

He got to his feet then and pulled her gently to hers before leaning over his patient again, and without waste of time, Esmeralda started off as fast as she could, back to the house.

The baby was very quiet; she sent Sieska to fetch the bottle and a shawl and began to peel off the heterogeneous a.s.sortment of garments covering it. They were very dirty, and when the baby's puny body was at last bared, that was even dirtier. Esmeralda tut-tutted in horror and sympathy while she cleaned him up as much as she dared, wrapped him in a towel and then the shawl which Sieska had found, and cuddled him on her lap before offering him the bottle of water. He guzzled it down with pathetic haste and then cried out for more; she was begging him to be a good patient boy when Mr. Bamstra put his head round the door.

"Coping?" he wanted to know with what she considered to be heartless cheerfulness.

"The girl's in the ambulance, they're coming round to the house by road.

I'll go with it to Leeuwarden and take the infant with me. Is it a boy or a girl?" He peered down at the small wailing bundle in her lap.

"A boy." Esmeralda made a small, soft sound at the wizened face peering out from the shawl.

"A beautiful boy once he's been fed and bathed and cuddled." She added indignantly: "How could anyone let him get into such a state?"

"Apathy, misery, hopelessness," said Mr. Bamstra, and when she looked up at him it was to find him staring at her with an expression on his face which she had never seen before and which she certainly couldn't define--tenderness, amus.e.m.e.nt. His handsome features had resumed their normal calm before she could be sure that she had indeed seen anything at all.

"He's not awfully clean," she warned him.

"I did the best I could, but I didn't dare do too much. He took his water beautifully--1 suppose he'll go on a drip?"

Her companion received her offered bundle into the crook of his arm.

"He will. You'll let Adam and Loveday know? I'll telephone later."

He had this annoying habit of going before she could answer him, and the questions trembling on her lips had no chance to be uttered. She heard the front door shut and the ambulance start up as she began to collect the bits and pieces which the baby had been wearing--they would have to be burnt, she decided, and she herself had better have a bath and change her dress, which, she noticed for the first time, was most regrettably stained.

And presently, when Adam and Loveday were home again, they listened to her tale without interruption, save for one or two sympathetic murmurs from Loveday, and when she had finished Adam said: "We can only be glad that you discovered the unfortunate girl and her baby, Esmeralda.

Thank you for all you have done, and so sensibly too. "

Here was another man who found her sensible, thought Esmeralda crossly, then had to smile as he added: "Women always remember the important things like changing the baby and knowing how to stop it crying." And Loveday chimed in with: "And thank you for thinking about little Adam, my dear."

The two girls smiled at each other and Esmeralda said: "Oh, but that was Thimo--he warned everyone when he came up to the house, though I don't think the baby was ill with anything, just starved and dehydrated and fearfully dirty, but you can't be sure, can you?"

They were having drinks before lunch when Thimo telephoned. Adam went away to answer the call and returned presently to say that the mother was conscious and she and the baby were in the intensive care unit.

She had been able to tell Thimo where she came from, too. She had run away from home--not married and nowhere to turn--trying to make her way to a sister living in Harlingen who she felt sure would let her live with her.

"Thimo will sort it out," concluded Adam comfortably, and smiled at his wife.

"I'm to warn you that he doesn't expect to be back until the late afternoon at the earliest."

"Oh, just when everything..." began Loveday, and changed rather lamely to: 'is ready for lunch. " She turned to Esmeralda and went on brightly: "Isn't it always the way when a meal's ready to be put on the table?"

And Esmeralda, conscious of a vague disappointment too, agreed, un noticing of the wicked grin on the Baron's face.

The day pa.s.sed peacefully, playing with baby Adam, strolling in the garden, having tea on the terrace. As they sat down to dinner; Loveday said with very creditable cheerfulness: "It looks as though Thimo won't get here--he has a list in the morning, hasn't he?" She looked enquiringly at her husband, who answered placidly: "Yes, my love, but he can always telephone."

His wife made no reply to this, but when Esmeralda had left them for a few minutes before they settled down for their coffee, she seized the opportunity to hiss at him: "Anyone would think that you were delighted--the whole day wasted! They could have spent it together.. it's as though Fate..."

Her husband kissed her gently.

"My darling, I am not in the least delighted, only quite unworried. You talk about Fate in that tragic manner, but Thimo is quite capable of bending it to suit his own ends, you know." He kissed her a second time and then strolled across the room to let in Digger, the elderly family dog, and when Esmeralda came into the room a few moments later, suggested that they might run through her vocabulary so that Loveday would have some idea where to begin her lessons. They were deep in this exercise when Thimo came back, walking into the room in an unhurried manner which for some reason or other ruffled Esmeralda's good humour.

"Hullo," said Loveday.

"What about supper?"

"I had something at the hospital, but I'd love some coffee. Sorry I've been away so long."

"Everything settled?" asked Adam.

"Yes, they're both coming along nicely." He glanced across at Esmeralda and smiled at her.

"Did I hear you speaking Dutch as I came in?"

"You recognised it?" she asked coolly.

"Then I'm better than I thought I was."

He stayed for barely an hour, and much of that was taken up with brisk information about her job. As he got up to go he told her: "I'll come and fetch you next Sunday." He raised an eyebrow at Loveday.

"That's if I may?"

"Of course you can, and you'll stay for lunch." Loveday offered a cheek for his kiss, but he didn't kiss Esmeralda, only waved a casual hand, and she a little put out, gave him a frosty nod which brought a gleam to his eyes. She went to bed afterwards, feeling a little hurt that he hadn't told her more about the girl and her baby. After all, it was she who had found them, and she had wanted to know so much more than what he had told them, perhaps he had thought she wouldn't be interested.

She was on the edge of sleep when she realized that she hadn't given a thought to Leslie for the whole of that day.

The week pa.s.sed in a succession of quiet days, broken from time to time by an outing to Sneek or Leeuwarden. The Baron she saw very little of, for although he breakfasted with them, he went immediately afterwards and seldom returned before teatime, and on the two days when he went to Leiden and Utrecht to operate, he left before Esmeralda was even out of bed, and when he returned in the evening, she found some excuse to write letters or busy herself in the garden in the cool of the evening, so that he and Loveday could have a little time together, but the long summer days were delightful in Loveday's company. She had her embroidery, baby Adam to play with, and over and above these, her daily lessons in the Dutch language. Loveday taught her well, although her own knowledge of the language was by no means faultless, but at least Esmeralda learned the basic words and phrases she was likely to need.

By the time Sunday had come round again, she felt fairly confident that she would be able to cope, provided that she wasn't rushed off her feet, and that, Loveday a.s.sured her, wasn't likely in a well-run consulting practice, and Esmeralda happily agreed, her head stuffed with useful phrases so that there was hardly room for Leslie at all.

She was sitting on the lawn at the front of the house with small Adam on a rug beside her and everyone else at church when Thimo drove up.

He stopped the car close to where she was and came towards her across the velvety lawn. His hullo was as pleasant as it always was, as was his casual: "Everyone still at church? How's baby Adam?"

"As good as gold, and such a darling."

Mr. Bamstra folded himself neatly on to the gra.s.s beside her.

"He's a splendid fellow." He looked at her and smiled.

"That poor sc.r.a.p you found has gained three pounds and doesn't seem any the worse for his unfortunate experience."

She beamed back at him.

"Oh, I am glad--and his mother?"

"Very nearly fit and well again. They have you to thank for their lives, Esmeralda." And when she said awkwardly: "I didn't do anything," he went on as though she hadn't spoken: "Would you like to see them? We could go over directly after lunch if you would like that."

She was conscious of a deep pleasure.

"Oh, could we? I should like that, indeed I would."

"Good. And now, how about the foot? Pain, discomfort? Anything not as it should be?"

"I'm so used to it now that I shall feel very strange without the plaster.

It doesn't hurt at all."

"And the Dutch lessons?"

She chuckled.

"Loveday says I'm OK, but Adam laughs at my accent."

"I'm sure it's charming. You have enjoyed your week here?"

"Very much." She paused, then: "Thimo, it's very kind of you to come and fetch me, but it's taken up the whole of your day. Doesn't the the girl you're going to marry mind?"

He was lying on his back, looking at the sky.

"No she's a very nice girl."

"She must be. I'm sure I wouldn't like it..." She stopped, picturing herself sitting at home with her mother, while Leslie spent the day fetching a girl she didn't know from somewhere or other. She would have been put out, to say the least. Her uneasy thoughts were interrupted by her companion "Have you packed your things?" he wanted to know.

"Because if you have, we won't need to come back here we'll leave after lunch and have tea at my place and drive straight back to. Leiden. Do you need to go to the hospital for anything?"

"No, thank you. Willi's aunt doesn't mind me staying with her you're sure?"

"She's very pleased, she doesn't like being alone."

"She's expecting me today?"

"Yes, you'll have all Monday morning to settle in. I have a list in the morning which will take me until midday or thereabouts, and my first patient won't arrive at my rooms until two o'clock." He glanced at her.

"Nervous?"

"Well, yes, just a little, but I'm glad to have something to do until my plaster's off and I can go home."

"And then what will you do?"

"Oh, stay with Mother for a week or so and look around for another job I thought Scotland might be nice..."

Her companion nodded understandingly.

"A long way off," he commented.

"All the same, I hope you'll go to a dance or two before you go there."

In a Gina Fratini dress and the most beautiful evening slippers she could find, even if they cost her entire quarterly allowance. Her green eyes shone at the prospect, but she said lightly: "Oh, of course and I hope you'll be the first one to dance with me."

"I may take you up on that." He spoke lazily as he rolled over to offer a finger for baby Adam to clutch at.

They left after a gay lunch, with an invitation to come again whenever either of them had a day or so to spare.

"And your mother," asked Loveday as they were preparing to leave, 'is she going to telephone this evening, or did you tell her you were leaving here? "

"She knows I told her I'd telephone her in the morning." Esmeralda smiled at the other girl.

"Thank you both for a lovely time it was super, you know; when you've been working in hospital you forget that people live like this." She sounded almost wistful and Loveday made haste to say: "It is nice to be away from the wards for a bit, isn't it? Good luck with the job, and don't let Thimo bully you."

The afternoon was warm, and Esmeralda, looking her best in a pretty flowery voile, sat contentedly enough beside Thimo as he drove to Leeuwarden. She was going to miss Loveday and her baron--and the baby--The reflection put her in mind of the other baby they were on their way to visit.

"Where will they go when they leave hospital?" she wanted to know, following her train of thought and voicing it out loud.

Her companion slowed the car's pace and turned to look at her.

"To this sister mentioned-she is more than willing to have them both."

"Yes, but have they enough money?" She looked away from him and said awkwardly, "I'd be glad to help..."

"That's kind and thoughtful of you, Esmeralda, but that's already taken care of."

"Oh--I suppose they have Social Security here, too..."

"Er--yes." He sent the car ahead once more and began to talk about something else, and before she had realized it they were in Leeuwarden, parking outside the modern hospital on the city's outskirts.