"Well," said Gauzita, in unexcusable slang, "I must smile." And she
did smile.

"And nobody has pined away and died?" cried Robin.

"I haven't," said Gauzita, swinging herself and ringing her bells again.
"I really haven't had time."

Robin Goodfellow turned around and rushed out of the group. He regarded
this as insulting. He went back to Fairyfoot in such a hurry that he
tripped on his sword and fell, and rolled over so many times that
Fairyfoot had to stop him and pick him up.

"Is she dead?" asked Fairyfoot.

"No," said Robin; "she isn't."

He sat down on a small mushroom and clasped his hands about his knees and
looked mad--just mad. Angry or indignant wouldn't express it.

"I have a great mind to go and be a misanthrope," he said.

"Oh! I wouldn't," said Fairyfoot. He didn't know what a misanthrope was,
but he thought it must be something unpleasant.

"Wouldn't you?" said Robin, looking up at him.

"No," answered Fairyfoot.

"Well," said Robin, "I guess I won't. Let's go and have some fun. They