Happy Lili! that she might weep so freely—that she might exclaim with such exultation—“What do we care for Madame Eekhof, if we like each other?” [[179]]
They were bound for a farm-house, kept by a farmer with whom the Verstraetens were well acquainted. The road taken lay along the Loosduinschen Weg, and the passengers by the brake felt far from comfortable in the sweltering rays of the mid-day sun, which poured its fierce rays mercilessly down upon their heads. Madame Verstraeten and Mathilde sat on a back seat, with Nico between them; Marie, Lili and Frédérique, Paul, Etienne and Georges were their vis-à-vis, the front bench being occupied by Tine and Lientje, and the little cousins Verstraeten; Johan and little Cateau van der Stoor sat on the box. It would be a cosy little party, entirely among themselves, without the presence of strangers, who would only have interfered with their freedom. Marie was taking handfuls of cherries from a big basket and distributing them all round, and Etienne, between his mouthfuls, was relating how Marguerite van Laren had declared that a brake was a plebeian conveyance.
“When the van Larens go to a picnic they always go in court carriages, I suppose, with powdered footmen!” said Georges.
“In toilettes à la Watteau, and leading little lambs attached to pink ribbons,” added Lili, and they smiled at each other.
Every one laughed, and they felt in a very good humour, the girls in their simple cotton frocks, the young men in their light summer suits and straw hats.
“Cateau, will you have some cherries?” asked Marie, and a handful went across to Cateau. “There you are, divide with Jan.”
“Oh, I shall get my share,” cried Jan, in his loud voice. “Toos, shall I show you a little trick?”
“What sort of trick?” asked Toos.
“Look, you see those two cherries, don’t you? Now then, put that one in your mouth; that’s right.”
“Well, and what then?” asked Toos, doing as she was asked.