And then quickly followed, "You just ought to see my peaches, though—so large and ripe, such beauties!" and Marietta's lips were pressed together as if already enjoying them.
And so the clouds rolled away, for in counting the many delicacies her picnic basket would hold, the heavy caramel cake was altogether forgotten.
"But what are you going to take, Laura?"
"I?" and Laura straightened herself back with a most self-satisfied air while saying, "Potato and asparagus salad—just made from asparagus tips, Mariette."
"Yes, I know," and she smiled, while nodding her curly brown head.
"And besides those, chicken pie, hard-boiled eggs, nasturtium seed, and peach pickles; pâté de foie gras sandwiches, a loaf of fresh home-made bread, and a roll of unsalted butter; large ripe tomatoes, some pepper and salt to help them down, and a frosted walnut cake."
"Oh, what a tempting luncheon! I guess no one will starve at our table!"
"I hope not. But, you know, picnics give powerful appetites; that's why I shall take an extra loaf of bread; besides, it will seem so fresh to cut it foreign fashion, just as it's needed."
The girls were talking in the large wainscoted parlor, and, it is needless to say, made a fascinating picture in their pretty summer toilettes, Mariette all in white, and Laura all in pink, her pink satin ribbons the exact match of her pink cheeks, as with mischievous manner she talked excitedly on. And we made a play of reading; for, instead, we were idly resting in this temptingly cool airy room, and could not help but listen to their gay chatter. So it was we learned that the picnic was to be to-morrow, that the party numbered twenty, an even number of girls and boys, that they were to be driven to their destination in large market-wagons made festive with flags; that each girl was to bring luncheon enough for herself and one of the boys, and that the boys would bring all the necessary outfit for games, such as ropes, archery, grace-hoops, tennis-net, and racquet balls.