The boat rustled lightly along the water. They passed the bathers whose
striped tents stood between the willows of the meadow's edge, and drew
along the open shore, past the meadows that sloped golden in the light
of the already late afternoon. Other boats were stealing under the
wooded shore opposite, they could hear people's laughter and voices.
But Gudrun rowed on towards the clump of trees that balanced perfect in
the distance, in the golden light.
The sisters found a little place where a tiny stream flowed into the
lake, with reeds and flowery marsh of pink willow herb, and a gravelly
bank to the side. Here they ran delicately ashore, with their frail
boat, the two girls took off their shoes and stockings and went through
the water's edge to the grass. The tiny ripples of the lake were warm
and clear, they lifted their boat on to the bank, and looked round with
joy. They were quite alone in a forsaken little stream-mouth, and on
the knoll just behind was the clump of trees.
'We will bathe just for a moment,' said Ursula, 'and then we'll have
tea.' They looked round. Nobody could notice them, or could come up in time
to see them. In less than a minute Ursula had thrown off her clothes
and had slipped naked into the water, and was swimming out. Quickly,
Gudrun joined her. They swam silently and blissfully for a few minutes,
circling round their little stream-mouth. Then they slipped ashore and
ran into the grove again, like nymphs.
'How lovely it is to be free,' said Ursula, running swiftly here and
there between the tree trunks, quite naked, her hair blowing loose. The
grove was of beech-trees, big and splendid, a steel-grey scaffolding of
trunks and boughs, with level sprays of strong green here and there,
whilst through the northern side the distance glimmered open as through
a window.
When they had run and danced themselves dry, the girls quickly dressed
and sat down to the fragrant tea. They sat on the northern side of the
grove, in the yellow sunshine facing the slope of the grassy hill,
alone in a little wild world of their own. The tea was hot and
aromatic, there were delicious little sandwiches of cucumber and of
caviare, and winy cakes.
'Are you happy, Prune?' cried Ursula in delight, looking at her sister.
'Ursula, I'm perfectly happy,' replied Gudrun gravely, looking at the
westering sun.
'So am I.' When they were together, doing the things they enjoyed, the two sisters
were quite complete in a perfect world of their own. And this was one
of the perfect moments of freedom and delight, such as children alone
know, when all seems a perfect and blissful adventure.