a couple of days after mrs. meidema was sitting with her two daughters in one of the hinder galleries of her house. our reader has already made a slight acquaintance with the pretty pair of twins on the occasion of the reception and ball at the residence. they were now sitting with their [310]mother, very busy mending a heap of boys’ clothing which appeared to be in a deplorable state.
“it is too bad,—really it is shameful,” said gesina. “now just do look at this, mother,—why the sleeve is literally torn out of it, and there is a huge rent right in the breast. i say, mother, do you think that jacket is worth patching up?”
“to be sure it is, sijntje,” replied the mother, “now just you set to work with a will.”
“those good-for-nothing boys!” cried gesina, “they keep us stitching for them all day long.”
“come, come,” threw in her sister matilda, “boys will be boys, and ours are so full of spirits.”
“that is no reason, i suppose,” said gesina, “why they should be climbing trees all day, and get their clothes in such a frightful state.”
“how do you suppose a boy is to keep out of a tree?” asked matilda. “if i were a boy i would do just the same.”
the mother smiled at her daughter’s warm defence of her little brothers. “oh, yes,” said she, “it would be a pretty sight to see matilda up a tree.”
the two young girls had a laugh at the idea, and then gesina said, “don’t you think, mother dear, that you might get us a needlewoman to help us with all this heap of clothes.”
“my dear girl, what are you thinking about?” asked mrs. meidema.
“well,” continued matilda, coming to her sister’s help, “i must say i think the idea a very good one.”
“but, my dear girls, pray remember that a needlewoman would have to be paid, and pray where is the money to come from?”
“anna van gulpendam,” put in matilda quickly, “i know always has her needlewoman.”
“no doubt she has,” said mrs meidema; “but you must remember, tilda, that anna is an only child, and that she is, moreover, the resident’s daughter.”
“is there then very much difference, mother, between the income of a resident and that of an assistant resident.”
“i should think so, indeed,” replied mrs. meidema; “the resident draws fifteen hundred guilders a month at least, and your father has at the most but five hundred.”
“so much difference as that,” said matilda, seriously; “indeed i never thought it was so much.”
“and then, tilda dear,” continued her mother, “as i said [311]before, the resident has but one daughter, and we have five children to provide for.”
“are children very expensive?” asked gesina.
“you can reckon it up for yourself, sijntje—there is food to get and clothing and school-fees and—oh, ever so many odds and ends besides.”
“it is a pity!” sighed the girl, after a while.
“what is a pity?”
“it is a pity that boys are such an expensive luxury, for they are jolly little fellows.”
“now did you ever hear such a girl?” laughed mrs. meidema, “first she grumbles at the trouble those good-for-nothing boys give her, and then she calls them jolly little fellows!”
“well, mother dear, you must let me grumble a bit now and then, i really can’t help it when we have such a heap of boys’ clothes to mend,” and with these words the young girl laid her fair head lovingly on her mother’s shoulder.
“money is not everything,” said matilda, sententiously, as she kept on stitching busily, while mrs. meidema was running her fingers through her daughter’s flowing curls.
the difference between her father’s income and the pay of resident van gulpendam led matilda to make this philosophical remark.
“of course not, matilda,” replied gesina, “of course not; money is not everything—look at us now, are we not happy?”
“yes,” said matilda, “and to complete the comparison, could anyone be happier even in the residence itself? oh, when i come to think over what has happened, i cannot help feeling very sad. poor, poor anna!”
“have you had any news from her?” asked gesina, who by this time had resumed her work.
“yes, this morning i had a letter from karang anjer, such a wretchedly sad letter. knowing anna’s character as i do i can read despair in every word, and i fear—oh, yes, i fear, the very worst—she is capable, i do really think, of any desperate deed.”
“but,” cried gesina, “what can be the matter with her?”
“i do not know the rights of it all,” replied her sister. “on those matters anna is very reserved; but what i know is that her parents will not consent to her marriage with van nerekool.”
“oh, she will soon get tired of karang anjer, and then we shall have her back again.” [312]
“i think not; indeed she writes to tell me that it is her intention never to return. her letter is so full of sorrow, so miserably despondent, it reads to me like a last farewell—as it were a parting for life. she writes to me as her best and truest friend, and beseeches me not to cast a stone at her should her despair prompt her to a step which will make the world scorn her memory. mother dear, what am i to do, what can i do to relieve her—i wish i could go to see her at karang anjer!”
“my dear child,” said mrs. meidema quietly, “the very best thing you can do is to allude as little as possible, in your correspondence with anna, to her attachment to van nerekool. she has, as you yourself say, not taken you fully into her confidence; and from this you may conclude that there exist secrets which you cannot, without indiscretion, touch upon; and which it would only increase her pain to needlessly pry into. time is the great healer, and it must have its soothing effect upon anna in her distress. i know something of what has been going on, and i am in hopes that things may yet turn out well.”
“you know what has happened, mother?” cried matilda, “do tell me all about it. i am so dearly fond of anna, that anything which concerns her has, for me, the greatest interest.”
“matilda,” replied mrs. meidema, “anna, who i do not think herself knows just how matters stand, has thought it right to keep silent before you. she has, in my opinion, acted very wisely.”
“but, mother!”
“yes, i say, she has acted very wisely in this matter, for she might perhaps have had to reveal to you a depth of wickedness which a young girl may very well remain ignorant of. you must allow me to follow her example. just now you said, very wisely too, that money is not everything in the world. you were quite right, it is not. there now you see before you a family to which money is no object, which possesses moreover all other requisites for happiness, such as health, consideration, the highest position in our little society; and yet you see there is no happiness. no, money is not everything—but yet—”
as she said it, the poor woman heaved a deep sigh. the fact that she was sitting there with her daughters hard at work, showed plainly enough that the earthly dross was not altogether so indifferent to her as her words might seem to imply—and [313]she hesitated to go on—her girls looked up at her with an inquiring glance.
“but yet?” asked gesina. “pray finish what you had to say, mother.”
“well,” continued mrs. meidema, “i had but very little to add; yet a couple of hundred guilders a year more would greatly improve our position. we have very heavy expenses to meet, we have a great deal of money to find; and—”
the awning which separated the back-gallery from the grounds beyond, and sheltered it from the glaring light outside, was here suddenly flung aside, admitting a dazzling flood of sunlight which made the three ladies look up in surprise.
“babah lim yang bing wishes to speak with the master,” said one of the servants.
“but your master is not in, he is at his office,” replied mrs. meidema, “you know that as well as i do.”
“i told the babah so, njonja,” said the man.
“well?”
“he wishes to speak to the njonja.”
mrs. meidema made a gesture of impatience. but lim yang bing, the wealthiest chinaman in the residence of santjoemeh—perhaps the richest man in all dutch india—was not the kind of man who could very well be turned away. it was, moreover, no very unusual thing for him to come and pay his respects to the ladies and, on such occasions, he generally had some pretty little nick-nacks to show.
“very well, show him in,” said mrs. meidema.
the needle-work had in all haste to be put away and concealed, and some light fancy work had to be snatched up; for it would never do to let that chinaman see a european family employed in such drudgery.
“tabeh njonja, tabeh nonna nonna. saja halap—”
but we will not attempt to reproduce the chinaman’s execrable malay. in fact it would hardly be possible to do so, as the men of his nationality find the greatest difficulty to pronounce some of the consonants, and their talk is often extremely difficult to understand.
“good-morning, madam; good-morning, young ladies,” said he most courteously, “i hope i am not intruding. i thought i might have found the assistant resident at home; but since i am not so fortunate, i take the liberty of paying my respects to the ladies—in the first place to inquire after their health, and also to tell them a great piece of news.” [314]
“news?” asked mrs. meidema, who like most women did not lack curiosity. “pray be seated, babah.”
and, turning to the native servant who was sitting cross-legged on the steps of the gallery, she said:
“todrono, bring a chair.”
as the chinaman took his seat, the two girls looked at him with wonder-waiting eyes.
“and now, babah, for your important news!” said mrs. meidema, somewhat eager to hear it.
“first,” said lim yang bing with another bow, “allow me to inquire after the state of the ladies’ health.”
“oh, thank you,” replied mrs. meidema, “we are all perfectly well.”
“toean allah be praised,” cried the chinaman in high-flown tones, but with the sweetest of smiles on his lips.
“now for your news, babah!” cried gesina impatiently.
“yes, nonna, i don’t wonder at your curiosity, you are quite right, the young ladies especially will enjoy it.”
“but, babah, do pray speak out, tell me what it is all about,” cried matilda as eagerly as her sister.
“well,” said the chinaman, “it is about a wedding.”
“a wedding!” exclaimed one.
“a chinese wedding?” asked the other.
“yes, ladies, yes, a chinese wedding, as you say,” replied lim yang bing, laying as much stress as he could upon his words.
“delightful!” cried both the young girls.
“and who may the happy couple be?” asked mrs. meidema somewhat more soberly.
“i may not tell you that, nja.”
“oh!” said gesina with much disappointment in her voice, “then it is not decided yet.”
“yes,” replied lim yang bing, “it is quite certain; it is so far decided indeed that i have samples of the silk with me now.”
“samples of the silk!” cried both the young girls in a breath.
“yes, the samples of silk. you surely must have heard, young ladies, that on such occasions the betrothed couple always make some little presents to the invited guests. and since you ladies will, i hope, honour me by witnessing the ceremony, i have ventured to bring the samples along with me. very fine silk indeed; i ordered it on purpose from nan hioeng. but you must judge for yourselves, ladies.” [315]
therewith he produced a small parcel which he carefully unfastened and the contents of which he displayed to the women’s admiring gaze.
“oh!” cried gesina, “just look at that lovely green shot with red! what a charming dress that would make!”
“and,” exclaimed matilda, “what a splendid blue! dark blue with flowers. if i had to choose, i would—”
“and will not mrs. meidema make her choice?” asked lim yang bing.
mrs. meidema could not help casting an eye upon the seductive parcel but—she hesitated.
“come, come, pray select a sample for yourself, madam,” said the chinaman with a supplicating look.
“but—babah—” she began, “i have never heard of gifts offered at chinese weddings. i know they are customary at the new year.”
“yes, yes njonja, you are quite right, on that occasion we offer gifts all round to all our acquaintances; but at a wedding we only do so to our old friends, and—i take the liberty of reckoning the assistant resident among my very good friends.”
“yes, but babah, you know mr. meidema, do you not?”
“surely the njonja would not refuse my poor little present,” interrupted the chinaman.
“oh, mother, dear!” whispered gesina beseechingly.
“no, babah, i will not downright refuse; but before coming to any decision or making any choice, i must have a talk to my husband.”
“of course, of course,” hastily said lim yang bing, “that is nothing more than right and proper. it makes matters, in fact, easier for me, as perhaps, madam, you would not mind to intercede for me with the assistant resident.”
“intercede for you, babah!” cried mrs. meidema now thoroughly surprised. “you know that my intercession has but very little influence with my husband.”
the chinaman smiled—it was a cunning leer, as he said:
“no, no, madam, i did not mean you to intercede for me—i cannot have expressed myself properly—what i meant was—to intercede for the bridegroom.”
“for the bridegroom?” asked mrs. meidema. “oh, yes; but who is the happy man, babah?”
“madam, that is a secret—however, i may just as well tell you at once; as soon as you know who he is i feel sure i [316]can reckon upon your sympathy. well, the happy man, then, is my son lim ho.”
“indeed!” said mrs. meidema very coolly, “and who is the young lady?”
“ngow ming nio.”
“the daughter of ngow ming than—is she not? a very pretty girl and a very rich girl too—i am sure i congratulate you, babah.”
“and now, may i reckon upon you, madam, to intercede for lim ho?” asked the chinaman.
“i do not see,” said mrs. meidema, “in what lim ho can need my intercession.”
“ah, well,” sighed lim yang bing, “i fear that the poor boy is not in very good odour with the assistant resident. if only you would speak a good word for him, madam.”
“but why? his marriage can have nothing to do with mr. meidema.”
“no, njonja; but—” said the chinaman dropping his voice, “you see there is something about an opium business in which the poor boy has got mixed up.”
“i will have nothing whatever to do with that sort of thing!” exclaimed mrs. meidema now fairly frightened. “there, babah, please put those samples up again.”
the chinaman was taken aback, he reluctantly rolled up the parcel and slowly and deliberately put it into his pocket.
“but, njonja,” he mumbled, “the poor fellow is as innocent as the babe unborn.”
“i won’t hear anything about it, babah, not another word, please, on the subject.”
“if only the toean assistant resident would hear what he has to say,” insisted lim yang bing.
“come, mother,” whispered gesina, who, to her infinite vexation saw the splendid silk dress fading away on the horizon, “if father would but hear what lim ho has to say for himself.”
mrs. meidema again hesitated.
“well,” said she, “if my intercession is to go no further than that—i can see no objection to ask my husband to do that.”
“mother, take care!” said matilda in a very low but very warning voice.
“i am infinitely obliged to the njonja,” said the chinaman as he took mrs. meidema’s hand and gratefully pressed it. “i shall leave these samples here with you—” [317]
“oh, no! no! i will have nothing to do with them.”
“but, mother,” whispered gesina.
“mother, take care!” said matilda as softly.
lim yang bing did not at all like these whisperings of the two young ladies, and so he hastened to say: “my dear madam, i can assure you that those poor samples have nothing in the world to do with your pleading for my son. i have the honour of inviting you and your two charming daughters—and of course, mr. meidema—to be present at my son’s marriage. there is not much harm in that i hope. i reckon you among my good friends and, as an acknowledgment of the honour which your presence will confer upon them, the young couple beg you to accept a slight present. in that no one will see any harm i hope; in fact it is simply our national custom. so far, i think we are agreed. this small parcel of samples i will leave here in order that the ladies may have time to make their choice and to talk over the whole matter with the assistant resident when he comes in.”
put thus plausibly, the offer could hardly be refused. but even if mrs. meidema had wished to make an objection she had no time to do so; for the wily chinaman had very hurriedly put down the parcel on the table, had muttered his tabehs with a few hasty words to the effect that he intended to look in again and ascertain what choice the ladies had made, and then had disappeared.
when once the babah was fairly out of the place, the two young girls looked at each other and at their mother.
gesina with a smile on her pretty lips, matilda with a very serious expression of countenance.
“a chinese wedding!” exclaimed the former. “no doubt there will be a reception and then, what a splendid dance we shall have. when the chinese do give a party they know how to do it well!”
“do keep quiet, sijntje,” said mrs. meidema. she spoke reprovingly, although, as a loving mother, she was pleased to see her girl’s radiant looks. they had so few opportunities to go out, especially to such parties as this promised to be. once a year they got an invitation to the residence, and that was all.
“and how fine i shall look,” continued the girl in her glee, “in my new silk dress.” she took the parcel from the table, “oh, yes,” said she, “i have quite made up my mind, i choose the green silk. and you tilda?” [318]
“i don’t know,” replied the other, “but somehow, i feel that all this bodes misfortune.”
“oh, i say, how very silly! just look at these samples!” cried gesina as she opened the bundle. “oh, what a splendid bit of brown silk—look mother, dear, that is something for you! and that deep blue is tilda’s choice; it is fine, yes it is very fine; but the green is to my mind the best of all. just look—but—but—what is that!”
gesina was spreading the piece of silk on her knee in order to bring out the fine effect of the colours. as she did so—something slid out of the packet and fell at her feet. for a moment the three ladies sat there as if petrified, for at a glance they had recognized bank-notes—papers of five hundred guilders. at length gesina stooped and picked them up. she counted them, one, two, three—up to ten.
“five thousand guilders!” she stammered in utter confusion. “how could they have got into the parcel? it must be some mistake of the babah’s—surely he must have made some mistake.”
“i feared as much!” thought matilda almost aloud.
“five thousand guilders!” the thought flashed through mrs. meidema’s brain as she took the parcel and the papers from her daughter’s hand, “five thousand guilders!”
her first impulse was to send at once after the babah and to call him back—to give him his money, and to have him and his samples and his notes kicked out of the house. five thousand guilders! and the chinaman was already so far away. five thousand guilders! was it wise to let the servants know all this—no certainly not—it would not be wise. five thousand guilders! it was about as much as her husband’s salary for ten months amounted to. she took up the notes, looked at them, smoothed them down one by one, then rolled them together. five thousand guilders! that would pay all those troublesome tradesmen’s bills, and even then, when every farthing was paid, there would be a nice little sum left. then meidema might get leave of absence for a while to go into the hill-country. he wanted a change, lately he had been looking very poorly—a couple of weeks’ holidays in the hills would quite set him up. five thousand guilders! the boys might have new jackets. all these thoughts however were cut short by the rumbling of carriage wheels on the drive.
“that is father!” cried gesina, “quick! put away those samples and notes!” [319]
she tried to seize them, she had already hastily rolled up the whole parcel together and was about to hide it under the coarse needlework with which they had been busy as the chinaman came in. but her mother took it from her and quietly laid it upon the table before her. the voice of her husband was heard in the front gallery giving some orders to his servant, and that voice had startled the good woman out of the train of evil thoughts which had unconsciously risen up within her, and which had threatened to lead her astray from the path of duty. no, no, from the man by whose side she had courageously walked for the best part of her life, she could have no secret; from him, whom she had followed for so many years in weal and in woe, she would have nothing hidden. she determined to lay everything open before her husband, he might then act as he thought best. true, they were very poor; but she felt that she must abide by his decision.
all these thoughts, in a moment of time, flashed through the mind of this brave and loyal wife, and when meidema walked into the back-gallery her mind was fully made up.
the girls jumped up to give their father the usual kiss, the mother also rose to welcome him. but meidema saw, at a single glance, that there was something wrong. he put his hands on his wife’s shoulders and steadily looking her in the face he said cheerily: “i say, mammy dear—is there any news?”
“yes, meidema, there is,” replied his wife gravely, “sit down, i have something to tell you!”
“i say, old girl, you look very serious, are the girls in the way?”
“no, no, let them stay, i have no secrets that they may not hear—in fact i prefer them to be here.”
“my love, how solemn you are! is there anything wrong? anything to do with them eh? have they had an offer? no? of course not, you would not have looked so black if they had.”
“now pray,” said his wife, “pray do not talk such nonsense.”
“oh, i see, it must be those boys! they have been naughty—trousers torn, jackets in holes! yes—those youngsters are an awful nuisance—never mind all that will come right by-and-by.”
“all that will come right!”—at those words he stopped short, poor man! his interview with the resident then came to his memory and he began restlessly to pace up and down the gallery. he took out his cigar-case and looked at matilda.
she jumped up, “may i light it for you, father?” she said. [320]
she put the cheroot to her lips, lighted a match, and drew a few whiffs. as the smoke went curling up her nostrils and into her eyes, she made a funny little grimace—then she coughed slightly and closed her eyes, and, when the cigar was well lighted, she gave it to her father saying:
“ah bah, horrid! how can you gentlemen like that nasty smoke?”
“why you little minx!” said her father laughing, “you have lit it at the wrong end!”
“it is more economical, father.”
“perhaps so; but that is why it tastes nasty.”
“well, father,” said matilda suddenly growing serious, “now please sit down and attend to mother.”
“yes, meidema, please sit down,” said his wife; “i have to talk to you on a most serious matter.”
“all right, wifey—here i am seated—now i am all ears.”
“babah lim yang bing has been here this morning!”
“indeed!—i met him a few minutes ago, he greeted me most politely—more politely in fact than usually.”
“do you know, meidema, what he came here for?”
“what he came here for? not i,” replied the husband somewhat astonished at his wife’s words. the name of the opium-farmer had roused some suspicion within him though he was unable to guess what his errand might have been. “i suppose,” said he, after a moment’s pause, “i suppose he merely dropped in to have a chat.”
“do you know,” said mrs. meidema, “that his son lim ho is about to be married?”
“yes, i have heard some such rumour. to the daughter of that rich old chinaman—is it not?”
“yes, father,” interrupted gesina, “to pretty little ngow ming nio.”
“lim yang bing,” continued mrs. meidema, “was here this morning to invite you and me and the girls to the wedding.”
“all right,” replied meidema, “the girls will have rare fun; i daresay you know,” he continued, as he patted the cheek of one of the twins, “you know a chinese marriage is a most interesting ceremony. is that then the reason why you all look so solemn? oh, aye—i see—it is about the dresses. the other day when the resident gave his ball we had some trouble about that. it is a great expense no doubt; but—”
“no, meidema, that is not troubling me, for the chinaman offers us a present.”
“a present!” shouted the assistant resident. [321]
“yes, he tells me that, on such occasions, they always give presents.”
“quite right—some sweetmeats, a few cakes, perhaps. but what of that?”
“no, no,” said his wife, “not sweetmeats at all; but silk for dresses.”
“silk!” cried meidema, “the fellow must have gone mad! i never have heard of any such presents; and yet i have been a good while in india.”
“he has even left some samples here with us,” continued mrs. meidema, “very fine silk, i assure you, most splendid quality. but there was one slight condition attached to his gift.”
“indeed! a condition! what might that be?”
“that i should intercede with you for lim ho.”
“for lim ho—oh, oh! and what did you say to that?”
“i told him i would have nothing to do with it.”
“where are these samples?” cried meidema. “hand them to me, i will fling them into the fire.”
“now meidema, do be quiet for a bit!”
“intercede for lim ho! so! they thought to bribe you with a yard or two of silk!”
“no, no meidema, not only with a yard or two of silk—just open that parcel.”
the inspector tore it open, and, in his excitement he cried, “where is it?”
the banknotes fell to the ground. pale and utterly unnerved he picked them up, he opened them, looked at his wife and daughters with a stern look; but he spoke not a word. at length, breaking out into a curse, he crumpled up the whole parcel of samples and notes together into one formless mass as he hoarsely cried: “the devil take that d—d chinaman! the fellow shall pay for this!” and calling to his servant he cried: “todrono, have the horses put in!”
ten seconds later he had dashed out of the room.
