“Never heard of them,” the old man exclaimed.  “They do not have them, I suppose, on an English bank holiday?  Then certainly you must have them here; we will go and eat them on the first day of the fair, when everything is nice and clean, and there are not too many people about.  I will find a nice quiet place, and we will go and eat them together, after tea, before there are great crowds.  Will you come with me?  I shall be taking my young lady to the fair like a gay dog.”

He chuckled at the idea, and Julia readily agreed.  “I shall be delighted,” she said.

When Denah came, a little later, it seemed she would be delighted too, although she was not specially asked.  But when she heard of the plan, she announced that her father had promised to take Anna and herself, and what could be better than that the parties should join?  Mijnheer quite approved of this, so did Julia; and she, on hearing Denah’s proposal, at once saw that Joost was included as he had not been before.  Joost did not like fairs; he objected to noise, and glare, and crowds, and all such things; neither did he care for pooferchjes; they were too bilious for him.  Nevertheless he agreed to join the party; Denah was quite sure it was entirely on her account.

On the morning of the first day of the fair, Julia went into the town to buy cakes to take with her on to-morrow’s excursion.  She had not changed her mind about that; she was still fully determined to go and spend a long day in the Dunes.  She had not told the Van Heigens of the place chosen; she and Mijnheer had much fun and mystery about it, he declaring she was going to the wood to ride donkeys with the head gardener’s fat wife.  There was another thing she also had not told the Van Heigens—­a slight alteration there had been in her plans; she was not, as she had first intended, going alone.  It had somehow come about that Rawson-Clew was going with her; he had never seen the Dunes, and he had nothing to do that day, and he was not going to Herr Van de Greutz in the evening, it seemed rather a good idea that he should go for a holiday too; Julia saw no objection to it, but also she saw that it would not do to tell her Dutch employers.  She had never mentioned Rawson Clew to them—­there had not seemed any need; she never met him till she was clear of the town and the range of reporting tongues there, and she usually parted from him before she reached the village and the observers there, so nothing was known of the evening walks.  Which was rather a pity, for, as Julia afterwards found out, it is often wisest to tell something of your doings, especially if you cannot tell all, and they are likely to come in for public notice.