Chapter Twelve.
The next morning the Count and the Baron rose from their downy slumbers and took breakfast, to which the Baron paid due attention, as he did, in truth, to all his meals.
“Now, my dear Baron, what do you say—shall we continue our journey, or again pay our respects to the estimable family of Van Arent?” asked the Count.
“At this hour, I fear, from what I know of the habits of the people, that our visit would not be welcome,” said the Baron. “The young ladies are probably engaged in milking the cows, or making butter, or superintending the manufacture of cheese. We should catch them in their working-dresses, and be considered intruders.”
“Then the best thing we can do is to sally forth and see the country,” said the Count. “But yet I should not like to leave this part of it without again having the happiness of basking in the smiles of those charming young ladies, Vrouw Margaret and Vrouw Isabelle.”
“I think you may be content with basking in the smiles of one of the two,” remarked the Baron, “I flatter myself that the smiles of the other are directed towards me.”
“We won’t quarrel on the matter,” said the Count, who greatly disliked to dispute. “I was going to tell you that I have an idea.”
“Have you, indeed!” exclaimed the Baron. “It is not often you indulge in anything of the sort, tray let me know what it is.”
“My idea is this,” said the Count. “You know that I am an exquisite player on the violin, though I did not bring one with me; for I might have been mistaken, had I done so, for an itinerant musician. The idea that has occurred to me is that I will purchase one, so that I may be able to accompany the fair Vrouws when they play the piano. They are sure to be delighted, and I shall be raised still higher in their good graces.”
“You are only thinking of yourself,” muttered the Baron. “But suppose,” he added aloud, “no violin is to be found in this rural district, how can you obtain one?”