Geneviève looked at her with again a puzzled expression on her face; it seemed to her that her sensible cousin said very silly things sometimes. Cicely appeared to read her thoughts. She smiled, as she went on speaking.
“That was another of my fancies when I was little,” she said. “I always thought the birds and the leaves and the insects and everything spoke in hushed tones on Sunday. And a rainy Sunday upset all my theories terribly! Do you hear the brook, Geneviève? When it is in good spirits, that is to say, pretty full, we can hear it a long way off. Ah! yes; there it is.”
She stood still, her head bent slightly forward as she listened, her lips parted, her soft eyes bright with eagerness. And from far away came the tinkling murmur she loved so well to hear.
“It is not very full today,” she said at last. “Sometimes it has quite a rushing sound, as if a crowd of fairies were going by in a great bustle, but to-day it sounds soft and sleepy. But we shall be late. The wind is not the right way for us to hear the bell. Don’t you think it is rather difficult to get to church at all when the road lies through a wood like this, Geneviève?”
“It is very pretty,” said Geneviève; “it would be charming to have a picnic here, Cicely.”
The idea roused her to something like enthusiasm, and made her temporarily forget the fears for the well-being of her pretty lavender muslin, which had considerably interfered with her enjoyment of the walk.
“Do you like picnics?” said Cicely.
“But yes, certainly I like them,” replied Geneviève; “that is to say, when there are plenty of agreeable people. At Hivèritz the picnics are charming. Once, Madame Rousille, the mother of one of my school companions, invited me to one that she gave when her eldest daughter was married. Ah, it was charming! But I was only fifteen then,” she added with a sigh.
“Why do you sigh, Geneviève?” asked Cicely.
“I was thinking how few pleasures I have had compared with Stéphanie Rousille,” said Geneviève naïvely; “her parents are so rich, they have a so beautiful house. You do not know what it is to be poor, my cousin.”