Eline Vere Read Online Free PDF Page B

feathers and palms filled every nook. A Venetian pier glass decorated with red cords and tassels hung above the pink marble mantelpiece, upon which stood the figurines of Amor and Psyche, in biscuit porcelain after Canova, with the maiden removing her veil in surrender to the lovesick, winged god.
    As Eline entered with Ben, she felt the welcoming glow from the hearth on her cheeks. She gave the child some tattered picture books to keep him busy, whereupon he settled himself on the couch beneath the aralia. Eline slipped into her bedroom, where the windows displayed a few lingering frost patterns, like delicate blooms etched into crystal.
    To the side stood her dressing table, abundantly flounced with tulle and lace, which she had touched up here and there with satin bows left over from ball bouquets; the top was laden with an assortment of flacons and coasters of Sèvres porcelain and cut glass. In the midst of all this pink-and-white exuberance glittered thelooking glass, like a sheet of burnished metal. The bedstead was concealed behind red hangings, and in an angle of the walls stood a wide cheval glass reflecting a flood of liquid light.
    Eline looked about her a moment, to see if the maid had arranged everything to her satisfaction; then, shivering from the cold in the just-aired bedroom, she returned to her sitting room and shut the door. With its muted Oriental appeal it was a most pleasant retreat, while outside all was bright with frost and snow.
    . . .
    Eline felt her throat filled with melody. Hunting among her music books for a composition attuned to her emotion, she came upon the waltz from
Mireille
. She sang it with variations of her own devising, with sustained points d’orgue, finely spun like swelling threads of glass, and joyous trills as clear as a lark’s. She forgot the cold and snow outside. Feeling a sting of conscience for not having practised for the past three days, she began singing scales, by turns brightening her high notes and practising difficult portamentos. Her voice rang out with plangent tones, the hint of coldness in it at once pearly and crystalline.
    Although Ben was accustomed to her melodious voice echoing through the house, he stopped turning the pages of his picture book to listen open-mouthed, giving a little start now and then at a singularly piercing ti or do in the top range.
    Eline was at a loss to account for her low spirits of yesterday. Where had that fit of gloom come from? She could think of no particular cause for it. How odd that it should have dissipated of itself, for she could think of no joyful occurrence to justify her change of heart. She now felt bright, gay, and in good form; she regretted not having seen the tableaux, and would have liked to have heard all about them from Betsy. She hoped the Verstraetens did not think her indisposition had been an excuse. Such a kind gentleman, Mr Verstraeten, so amusing and fun-loving, and his wife was such a dear! She was quite the nicest person she knew! And as Eline sat at her piano, now practising a roulade, then a series of shakes, her thoughts floated to all the other nicepeople she knew. All her acquaintances were nice in one way or another: the Ferelijns, Emilie de Woude, old Madame van Raat, Madame van Erlevoort, even Madame van der Stoor. As for young Cateau – she was adorable. And she caught herself thinking how amusing it would be to join in their theatricals herself: she heartily approved of the way Frédérique, Marie, Lili, Paul and Etienne were always happily banding together, always planning diversions and japes. What fun it would be to wear beautiful draperies and be admired by all! And Paul had an attractive voice, too; she did so love singing duets with him, and she quite forgot that only a few days before, during a conversation with her singing master, she had remarked that Paul had no voice to speak of.
    So she was in mellow mood, and sang a second waltz – that of Juliette in