"How's my G.o.dson?"

"Almost as big as his father." She slipped a hand, into her husband's with the un selfconsciousness of a child.

"Adam, take Thimo to see him while I take Esmeralda to her room, then we can have supper."

The room was beautiful. Esmeralda tidied herself while her hostess kept up a flow of small talk, never once giving her an opening to ask a single question about Mr. Bamstra, although she did manage to enquire as they went downstairs: "Is that Mr. Bamstra's name... T something-- I've never heard it before."

"Nice, isn't it? It's Friesian, of course. It sounds like Teemow, doesn't it, but it's spelt Thimo-you can spell it with an E too, which adds to the confusion. Some of the Friesian names are very strange, but you won't have to bother with Dutch while you're in Leiden--almost everyone speaks some sort of English."

They had reached the hall and were making for a half-open arched door behind which they could hear the men laughing and talking.

"Did Thimo tell you that I had been a nurse?"

"No..." Esmeralda would have liked to ask a few leading questions, but once again was frustrated by their arrival in the sitting room--an enormous apartment and very beautiful, with its white-painted walls and large, comfortable furniture. She accepted a gla.s.s of sherry from her host and sat down beside him, answering his casual, friendly questions happily enough.

Her arrival in Holland hadn't been quite what she had expected, but it was nevertheless more than pleasant. After a little while she began to ask a few discreet questions herself, but when she thought them over later on, she was forced to the conclusion that the answers had been vague to the point of nothing at all.

Dinner was fun--the two men were old friends and Loveday was a good hostess.

Esmeralda, who had a nice healthy appet.i.te, did full justice to the iced soup, the light-as-air cheese souffle accompanied by a mouthwatering salad, and finally an ice pudding smothered in whipped cream. They were served by a stoutly built middle-aged woman with a happy face, who, when Loveday said: "This is our housekeeper and good friend, Saskia," shook hands with Esmeralda and gave her much the same look that Nanny Toms gave to strangers; kind but slightly reserved, and faintly speculative. Esmeralda, who didn't mind being looked over in the least, smiled back at her and went to sit opposite Mr.

Bamstra, who leaned across the table to ask if she had seen his G.o.dson. The talk went well after that, and she, a little nervous of those who could not only speak another language fluently but crack jokes and be witty in it as well, drew consolation from Loveday's remark that she herself, after more than a year of marriage, was still far from perfect in the Dutch language, and began to enjoy herself.

Mr. Bamstra went shortly after they had had their coffee, asking Esmeralda as they said their good nights if she would be ready the following morning directly after breakfast.

"I've an afternoon list," he explained, 'but I should like to see you settled in first. "

She a.s.sured him that she would be ready for him and watched him walk away across the hall beside his friend, feeling lonely at the sight of his broad back disappearing through the door. It must have shown on her face, for Loveday said quickly: "Shall we go and have a peep at little Adam?" and ushered her up the staircase. Crossing the wide corridor which overlooked the hall, she spoke again.

"Do you mind talking about your op? If you do, just say so, and we won't mention it."

"I don't mind a bit," said Esmeralda, 'not with Mr. Bamstra or you or your husband, though some people are awful. They pity me, you know, and say awful things like: "And how dreadful for you not being able to dance, dear," or, "Does your poor foot hurt much?" She turned her green eyes on to her companion.

"I could kill them!"

"Well, you won't get any of that here--sympathy, mostly unsaid, and as much practical help as you want. Thimo's super at his job, but you know that already, don't you? He's hardly a man to boast of his own importance, but it filters through just the same."

They had paused to stand comfortably side by side, their elbows on the bra.s.s rail which topped the bal.u.s.trade running along one side of the corridor, so that they could look down on to the hall below. Saskia came out of the sitting room just then and saw them, calling something softly to Loveday as she pa.s.sed beneath them.

"Are you a baroness?" asked Esmeralda, who had sharp ears.

"Well--yes, but only because Adam's a baron. t.i.tles in Holland aren't a bit the same as they are in England, you know--you can't be made a baron or a jonkheer, you just are that if your father was, and his father before him, but new ones are never created. It's complicated.

The Adel--that's the t.i.tled families--mostly marry amongst themselves, too. "

"Adam married you," Esmeralda pointed out.

Loveday turned her lovely face to hers and her smile was a delight.

"Yes, he did, didn't he? And it was the most wonderful thing that ever happened to me."

She turned away and led the way across the corridor towards a narrow pa.s.sage leading off it, volunteering as she went: "Thimo is a jonkheer, he's a professor of surgery as well, but he likes to be called mister when he's in England--perhaps you didn't know?"

"No, I didn't." Esmeralda seized her opportunity.

"Is he..." She got no further, for Loveday had opened a door half way down the pa.s.sage and beckoned her in. Small Adam at two months of age was easily identifiable as his father's son, for he was the image of his proud parent, and if his size was anything to go by, bid fair to top his father by an inch or so by the time he had finished growing.

His doting mother bent over the cot.

"He's as good as gold," she said proudly, 'large and placid, just like Adam--as long as he gets his own way if he's made up his mind to something.

" She laid gentle fingers on his blond head and they crept out again.

"We've got a Friesian nanny for him, because Adam says he must speak Fries as well as English and Dutch at home. At school he'll be stuffed with Latin and German and French." She smiled at Esmeralda's look of astonishment.

"They like speaking other people's languages, you know. Shall we go downstairs for half an hour? Adam will be in the sitting room."

Esmeralda went to bed an hour or so later, and up in her charming room, getting ready for the night, she thought about Mr. Bamstra, a little piqued that although he had been friendly enough, he had seemed to hold her at arm's length all the evening. She wished she knew more about him; so far she had learned just about nothing, and there would be little chance to ask questions in the morning. She was still pondering the best way of finding out what she wanted to know when she fell asleep. She hadn't thought once about her operation, nor, for that matter, about Leslie.

In their vast room across the corridor Loveday danced across the thickly carpeted floor to her dressing table.

"Oh, Adam, isn't it wonderful?"

He stood by the door, watching her, smiling. '[ can think of a great many things that are wonderful, my love. "

His wife grinned at him.

"You mean little Adam..."

He nodded.

"But you first, Loveday--you will always be first."

She had kicked off her shoes, now she flew back on her stockinged feet to fling herself into his arms.

"You say the nicest things," she told him, and gave him a kiss, 'but what I-meant was. "

"I know--isn't it wonderful that the pair of them are in love. You may be right, darling, although I'm sure that Esmeralda has no inkling."

"But Thimo has."

He said placidly, his eyes twinkling: "We had a little talk while you two girls were upstairs." He put an arm round her shoulders and they crossed the room once more, and she sat down and began to take the pins out of her hair, wisely saying nothing, to be rewarded presently by his: "What a clever little wife you are, dearest. Tell me, did she ask any questions about Thimo? She had a go at me before dinner--in the nicest possible way, of course." He added thoughtfully: "She's curious about him, but at present she's totally unaware."

"And a lot of good her questions did," commented Loveday.

"I don't suppose you answered one of them. She asked me one or two, but I didn't tell her anything, more by chance than fortune."

"Well, don't--Thimo has his plans and he likes to do his own courting."

"You men and your plans!" said his wife tartly.

"And look where mine led me," Adam invited her as he bent to kiss her.

Esmeralda, untroubled by the speculations around her, slept like a child and was up, dressed and breakfasted by the time Mr. Bamstra arrived. She discovered that she was glad to see him again, even though she was bursting with curiosity about him and there had been no chance to discover the simplest facts about him--where he lived, how old he was, if he were married.

She paid a lightning visit to the nursery, bade her new friends a warm goodbye and found herself in the car once more, being driven away amidst a rain of "Come agains' and " See you soons. "

She sat silent because Mr. Bamstra, beyond his brief greeting, had made no effort at conversation, and she wondered why it was that she had such a strong urge to find out all about him when they were practically strangers; indeed the urge was strong enough for her to consider asking a question or two. She was trying to decide between "I hope you found your wife well' and " I expect your wife misses you when you're away', both leading questions which he would surely have to answer however much he disliked doing so, when he spoke first.

"I'm taking you straight to the hospital. You will be in the Private Wing--the Sister there and several of the nurses speak English. My registrar Octavius Barmond, is young, clever and should prove helpful to you."

"Oh--won't you be there?" Esmeralda's voice sounded forlorn and she looked at her companion anxiously; she could only see his profile, but it looked as calm and good-natured as usual and she couldn't see the gleam in his eyes.

"Er--yes, but not of course each and every day; I have to go to Utrecht this week and I must return to Groningen at the weekend."

She stared at a windmill they were pa.s.sing. So he had a wife.

"But you'll do the operation?"

"Of course. I think you'll find the Ward Sister a very nice girl; she will see that you get the English papers and tea with milk and all that sort of thing."

"That will be very nice," she declared, 'and thank you for thinking of it. "

She added defiantly: "I'm not a bit nervous."

He glanced at her quickly and away again.

"Excited rather, 1 imagine--very soon now you will be able to start planning your future."

Which reminded her of Leslie. She felt ashamed that she had forgotten him--no, not forgotten; there had been so much to think about. She agreed in a subdued voice and asked where they were.

"Lemmer." He sounded relieved to be changing the conversation.

"We're back down the opposite side of the Ijsselmeer; presently we cross reclaimed land, then through Kampen and on to the motorway to Zwolle.

We stay on it until we reach Hilversum; Leiden is another forty miles from there. We'll stop for coffee, I think. "

They stopped in pleasant wooded country somewhere on the road between Zwolle and Hilversum and had their coffee on the terrace of an attractive cafe, and her companion made delightful small talk about nothing at all, and when they were back in the car once more, he took upon himself the task of pointing out the more interesting aspects of the countryside through which they were driving. It seemed no time at all before Esmeralda exclaimed: "That must be Leiden over there," and it was. He slowed the car to go into the city, turning and twisting through narrow streets and stopping at last in the hospital's rather splendid courtyard.

He got out and opened the door and took her hand.

"Leave the luggage," he told her, 'and come with me. " He smiled as he spoke and her sudden unpleasant sensation of fright disappeared. She said: " Of course, Mr. Bamstra," in her usual sensible voice and limped briskly beside him and up the steps and in through the ma.s.sive gla.s.s swing doors, still with her hand in his.

CHAPTER FOUR.

Esmeralda heard Mr. Bamstra's voice long before she could see him; it was at the other end of a quite pleasant tunnel of grey cloud, through which she was drifting. She became aware that it was his hand which held hers, too, and when he said: "Wake up now, Esmeralda," in a quiet, commanding voice, she squeezed the hand to let him know that although she had heard him she wasn't going to be bothered. It was his low laugh which made her change her wandering mind. She pushed away the last comforting shreds of cloud and opened her eyes.

He filled the whole of her view, enormous in his theatre gown, his cap and mask hiding all but the high bridge of his nose and his eyes. She said hullo in a woolly voice, and then: "You do look enormous," and Struggled to focus him clearly as she went on politely: "You don't mind if I go back to sleep again?" and did so.

When she opened her eyes again, he was there--much clearer this time, still in his theatre clothes, but now his mask was pulled down under his chin.

When he didn't speak she swallowed from a dry mouth and said with faint peevishness: "I said I wanted to go to sleep."

She watched his faint smile come and go.

"So you did--four hours ago.

I've been back to theatre and finished my afternoon list while you snored. "

Her eyes flew wide at that.

"Snored--Oh, I don't. It's all done, isn't it?" She looked the question she couldn't put into words.

"And very successfully, though I've never seen such a minced-up set of metatarsals in my life. Would you like a cup of tea?"

She smiled slowly, relief and happiness washing over her so that she found it difficult to speak.

"More than anything else in the world," she told him, and turned her head to look around her. She was back in the little room they had taken her to on the previous day, in her own nightie again, the offending limb concealed under a cradle.

"When may I get up?" she wanted to know, not really caring if he answered or not, for she felt sleepy again.

Perhaps that was why he didn't answer; her lids drooped and she heard him say: "I'll be back," and when she dragged them apart again, he had gone, and a nurse was standing by her bed with a tray set with its little teapot and milk jug and cup and saucer; it reminded Esmeralda so forcibly of home that quite unusual tears filled her eyes and tumbled down her pale cheeks. The nurse put down her tray, making soothing sounds in her own language, and swept an arm round her shoulders.

"First the cry, then the tea," she said comfortably, and sent a rea.s.suring smile over her shoulder to Mr. Bamstra, standing in the doorway.

Esmeralda felt better when she had had her little weep. She drank her tea, apologised to the nurse for making a fool of herself, and went to sleep again. The pain in her foot woke her this time; a dull ache which curled itself round her bones and up her leg, and when she tried to shift her foot to ease the pain a little, the heavy plaster prevented her. There was a bell on the bedside table, but having answered so many bells herself, she was hesitant to give someone else that trouble. She saw with surprise that it was evening; she must have slept on and off all day, and now to add to her distress, she discovered that she was dreadfully thirsty too, although the pain was swamping everything now. She made herself lie still, knowing that someone would be round on a routine visit before long and she could hold out until then. But the pain became steadily worse, she could feel sweat trickling down her forehead--it was no good, she would have to ring.

But there was no need after all.

"Pain bad?" asked Mr. Bamstra from the door, and was by her bed before he had finished speaking, taking her pulse.

"Why didn't you ring sooner?"

"I've only been awake a few minutes," she managed with a smile, 'and I knew a nurse would be along. " She hardly noticed when he wiped her forehead; she certainly didn't see him press the bell.

A nurse came at once and he said something quietly to her and she disappeared again.

"You must be feeling hungry," he said in a placid voice.

"You're going to have something to check the pain and then you will feel like eating--and what about one of your nice cups of tea?"

"Lovely," she spoke through gritted teeth, 'but please don't let them bother about anything for me to eat. " She glanced out of the window.