Page:Magdalen by J S Machar.pdf/121

 as though millions of drops of molten metal were beating against a glass pane.

The stouter ladies of the gathering were drawing their handkerchiefs over their faces, and kept on saying: “What weather! But it is hot to-day!”

The light-haired, blue-eyed patrician daughters walked about, overflowing with happiness. For them such a picnic was, indeed, a holiday. Each old joke and stupid anecdote of their gallant cavaliers was rewarded with a grateful gmile, Their empty, trifling life was to have a new landmark with that day. They would say of future events: “That happened two weeks, a month, two months after the picnic”

Poor patrician daughters! Until they are fourteen they sit in their short dresses, their hair combed back, on the school-benches of their towns. Then, by an old custom, they are sent to the pious sisters at Zákupy. By Christmas their mothers, with tears of joy, are able to show their daugh-