Riekje took Dolf's head in her hands, and kissed his cheeks; she paused
from time to time as one pauses when drinking sweet liqueur to enjoy the
flavor, and then drinks again. Then she put her lips to his ear and
whispered:

"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."