"H'm, that sounds rather well. And before that some vegetables for a salad. It is too late or almost too late for asparagus. But I see you still have some young beans there. And here in the hot bed there is surely something to be found, a couple of small cucumbers or some lettuce. And then a sweet dish. Something with whipped cream. I do not care so much for it myself, but men, who always behave as if they did not like such things, are always wanting sweets. This will make three or four courses, I think. And then bread and butter and cheese."
"And at what time do you wish the luncheon?"
"Well, I think quite soon, or at least as soon as possible. Is that right? We are hungry and half an hour is long enough to roast the saddle of venison. So let us say at about twelve. And if I may ask, we will have punch, a bottle of Rhine wine, three of Moselle and three of Champagne. But good brands. You must not think that it will be wasted. I am familiar with wines, and can tell by the taste whether it is Moët or Mumm. But you will come out all right; you inspire me with confidence. By the way, can we not go from your garden directly into the wood? I hate every unnecessary step. And perhaps we may find some mushrooms. That would be heavenly. They would go well with the saddle of venison; mushrooms never spoil anything." The host not only answered the question in the affirmative, but escorted the ladies as far as the garden gate, from which it was only a couple of steps to the edge of the wood. Only a public road ran between. As soon as one had crossed the road, one was in the shady woods, and Isabeau, who suffered greatly from the increasing heat, thought herself fortunate in having avoided the rather long detour over a strip of treeless grass land. She played the fine lady, but her parasol, which she hung to her girdle, was decorated with a big grease spot. She took Lena's arm, while the two ladies followed. Isabeau appeared to be in the best humor and said, glancing back, to Margot and Johanna: "We must have a goal. It is quite dreadful to see only woods and then more woods. What do you think, Johanna?"
Johanna was the taller of the two d'Arcs, and was very pretty, but somewhat pale and dressed with studied simplicity. Serge liked that. Her gloves fitted wonderfully, and one might have taken her for a lady if she had not used her teeth to button one of her glove buttons which had sprung out.
"What do you think, Johanna?" the Queen repeated her question.
"Well, then, I propose that we should go back to the village from which we came. It was called Zeuthen, and looked so romantic and so melancholy, and the road between there and here was so beautiful. And it must be just as beautiful or more so going back in the other direction. And on the right hand, that is to say, on the left going from here, was a churchyard with crosses. And there was a very large marble one."
"Yes, dear Johanna, that is all very well, but what good would it do us? We have seen the whole road. Or do you want to see the churchyard...."
"Of course I do. I have my own feelings, especially on a day like this. And it is always good to be reminded that one must die. And when the elder bushes are in bloom ..."
"But, Johanna, the elders are no longer in bloom; the acacia is about all, and that already has pods. My goodness, if you are so wild about churchyards, you can see the one in the Oranienstrasse every day. Zeuthen and the churchyard, what nonsense! We had rather stay right here and see nothing at all. Come, little one, give me your arm again."
The little one, who by the way was not little, was Lena. She obeyed. But as they walked on again, the Queen continued in a confidential tone: "Oh that Johanna, one really cannot go about with her; she has not a good reputation, and she is a goose. Ah, child, you would not believe what kind of folks there are going about now; Oh well, she has a fine figure and is particular about her gloves. But she might better be particular about some other things. And if you will notice, it is always such as she who talk continually about the churchyard and dying. And now you ought to see her by and by. So long as things are all right, they are all right. But when the punch bowl comes and is emptied and comes in again, then she screeches and screams. No idea of propriety. But where should it come from? She was always amongst the commonest people, out on the Chaussée towards Tegel, where no one ever goes and only the artillery passes by. And artillery ... Oh well.... You would hardly believe how different all that is. And now Serge has taken her up and is trying to make something out of her. My goodness, it can't be done, or at least not all of a sudden; good work takes time. But here are some strawberries still. How nice! Come, little one, let us pick some (if it were not for this accursed stooping), and if we find a real big one we will take it back with us. I will put it in his mouth and he will be pleased. For I want to tell you that he is just like a child and he is just the very best man."