“Dolf, my darling Dolf, will you love it?”

Dolf raised his hand solemnly.

“I call God to witness, Riekje, I shall love it as if it were my own flesh and blood.”

“Our lad has been lucky,” said Nelle to her husband.  “Riekje is a dear lass.  She brought joy with her when she entered our house, Tobias.”

“We are very poor, Nelle,” he replied, “but old parents like ourselves can have no greater happiness than to see their children sitting round their fire in love with one another.”

“They love one another as we loved, Tobias.”

“You were then a pretty, fresh girl from Deurne, Nelle, with cheeks as red as a cherry and a nose like a pretty little seashell.  When you went to church on Sunday with your fine winged cape and your big metal star, which all young girls wear, every man turned to look at you.”

“But I did not look at them, for Tobias was my sweetheart; a fine lad he was, with black hair and a pointed beard, a green velvet jacket, bright eyes and big brown cheeks.”

“Ah!  Nelle, how happy we were in those days when we could clasp hands behind a hedge, and sometimes, too, I stole a kiss when your head was turned away.”

“That’s true, Tobias, but afterwards, I did not turn my head away and you kissed me all the same.”

“There is no greater happiness on earth, my Dolf,” said Riekje, “than to grow old loving one another; the years don’t then gloom as life lengthens, and when one dies, the other soon follows.”

“It is so, Riekje.  If my old father dies first, I shall say to the gravedigger, ’Dig a big hole, sexton, for my mother will lie there too.’”

“Ah! heart of me!” cried Riekje, clasping her husband in her arms, “I shall say the same thing to the sexton if you die first, my Dolf.”

The fire roared in the stove, and the candles, which were nearly burned down, gave a flickering light.  Nelle had forgotten to snuff the wicks and the thieves which fell into the tallow made it drop in big yellow tears.  In the ruddy light, which widened in circles like water where a stone has fallen, the little narrow cabin seemed a paradise because of the happy hearts which were in it.

The rough head of the old man, with his prominent cheek-bones, his gray beard, his shaven lips, and ears pierced with gold rings, stood out the color of smoked salmon, against the brown wall.  Near him sat Nelle.  Her back was turned to the candles, and now and again, when she moved her head, a bright light caught her brow, the gold rings sparkled in her ears, the tip of her nose shone, and the wings of her cap stood out in the shadow like the wings of a bird.  She wore a coarse woollen skirt, over which hung the full basque of her flowered jacket, but as Tobias’ arm was round her waist the stiff pleats were not in such perfect order as usual.

Riekje and Dolf sat hand in hand on the other side of the room; they had drawn as idea little that they might look at one another unbeknown to the others, and their faces were close together.  When they moved, the candlelight struck Dolf’s shaven chin, Riekje’s red lips, their necks or their pierced ears, as the sun strikes the belly of a fish below the water.  Kettles, saucepans, and pots shone on the shelves and the shadows in the corners were soft as velvet.