FullReads

And they wandered there by day and looked at the black reflection of the trees. And in the heat it seemed so cool and restful….

They abandoned their work. What did pictures and books matter now? They sauntered about the meadows, along shady roads; they watched the black and white cows sleepily browsing, sometimes coming to the water’s edge to drink, and looking at themselves, amazed. They saw the huge-limbed milkmaids come along with their little stools and their pails, deftly tying the cow’s hind legs that it might not kick. And the steaming milk frothed into the pails and was poured into huge barrels, and as each cow was freed, she shook herself a little and recommenced to browse.

And they loved their life as they had never loved it before.

One evening they went again to the canal and looked at the water, but they seemed to have lost their emotions before it. They were no longer afraid. Ferdinand sat on the parapet and Valentia leaned against him. He bent his head so that his face might touch her hair. She looked at him and smiled, and she almost lifted her lips. He kissed them.

‘Do you love me, Ferdinand?’

He gave the answer without words.

Their faces were touching now, and he was holding her hands. They were both very happy.

‘You know, Ferdinand,’ she whispered, ‘we are very foolish.’

‘I don’t care.’

‘Monsieur Rollo said that folly was the chief attribute of man.’

‘What did he say of love?’

‘I forget.’

Then, after a pause, he whispered in her ear,–

‘I love you!’

And she held up her lips to him again.

‘After all,’ she said, ‘we’re only human beings. We can’t help it. I think–‘

She hesitated; what she was going to say had something of the anti-climax in it.

‘I think–it would be very silly if–if we threw ourselves in the horrid canal.’

‘Valentia, do you mean–?’

She smiled charmingly as she answered,–

‘What you will, Ferdinand.’

Again he took both her hands, and, bending down, kissed them…. But this time she lifted him up to her and kissed him on the lips.

VIII

One night after dinner I told this story to my aunt.

‘But why on earth didn’t they get married?’ she asked, when I had finished.

‘Good Heavens!’ I cried. ‘It never occurred to me.’

‘Well, I think they ought,’ she said.

‘Oh, I have no doubt they did. I expect they got on their bikes and rode off to the Consulate at Amsterdam there and then. I’m sure it would have been his first thought.’

‘Of course, some girls are very queer,’ said my aunt.