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Louis Couperus

Eline Vere

I

The dining room, doing service as a dressing room, was a hive of activity. Before a cheval-glass stood Frédérique van Erlevoort, her hair loose and flowing, looking very pale under a light dusting of rice-powder, her eyebrows darkened with a single brushstroke of black.

‘Do hurry up, Paul! We shall never be ready in time!’ she fretted, glancing at the clock.

Kneeling before her was Paul van Raat, his fingers flying as he draped a long, gauzy veil of gold and crimson about her waist, making the fabric billow over her pink underskirt; her bare shoulders and arms were snowy white with powder and all ashimmer with doubled and twisted necklaces and chains.

‘Oh, there’s such a draught! Do keep that door shut, Dien,’ grumbled Paul as the old housemaid departed with an armful of dresses. The open door offered a glimpse of the guests proceeding along the potted palms and aralias on their way from the hall to the large reception suite, the men in evening dress and the ladies in light-coloured apparel, all peering into the dining room as they passed by.

There was much merriment behind the scenes, with only Frédérique retaining some form of composure, as befitted the majesty of her role as a queen of antiquity.

‘Please be quick, Paul,’ she pleaded. ‘It’s gone half-past eight already!’

‘Yes, yes, Freddie, don’t worry, you’re almost done!’ he responded, deftly pinning some jewels among the gauzy folds of her drapery.

‘Ready?’ asked Marie and Lili Verstraeten as they emerged from the room where the stage had been set — a mysterious elevation that was barely distinguishable in the dim light.

‘Ready!’ answered Paul. ‘And now let’s all calm down!’ he pursued, raising his voice commandingly.

He had good reason to admonish them, for the youngsters acting as wardrobe assistants — three boys and five girls — were cavorting about the cluttered room, laughing, shrieking and causing the uppermost disorder, while Lili struggled in vain to wrest a golden cardboard lyre from the hands of the twelve-year-old son of the house, and the two rowdy cousins set about climbing a large white cross, which was already teetering under their onslaught.

‘Come down from that cross, Jan and Karel! Give me that lyre at once, other Jan!’ roared Paul. ‘Do take them in hand, Marie. And now — Bet and Dien, come over here, will you? Bet, you hold the lamp, and you, Dien, stand beside the sliding door. Everybody else out of the way! There won’t be enough room, so some people will have to go out into the garden and watch through the window. They’ll have a splendid view from there. Come along Freddie, careful now, here’s your train. ’

‘You’ve forgotten my crown. ’

‘I’ll put it on your head when you’ve taken up your pose. Come on now. ’

The three banished maids scurried away, the boys crouched down in a corner where they would be invisible to the audience, and Paul helped Freddie to ascend the stage.