they were fantasies lovely as even their master had portrayed; while
the dells through which they led me were green and deep and white and
golden with buds.

It was now, I suppose, about the middle of the morning, yet though the
sun was high, his heat was that of dawn. Dawn lingered in the shadows,
as snow when winter is over and gone, and dwelt among the sunbeams.
Dew lay heavy on the grass, as the dainty heels of my captresses
testified, yet they trod lightly upon daisies wide-open to the blue
sky, while daffadowndillies stooped in a silence broken only by their
laughter.

We came presently to a little stone summerhouse or arbour,
enclustered with leaves and flowers of ivy and convolvulus, wherein
two great dishes of cherries stood and bowls of honeycomb and
sillabub.

There we sat down; but they kept me close too in the midst of the
arbour, where perhaps I was not so ill-content to be as I should like
to profess. How then could I else than bob for cherries as often as I
dared, and prove my wit to conceal my hunger?

"And now, Sir Traveller," said she of the sparkling eyes, named
Dianeme, "since we have got you safe, tell us of all we have never
heard or seen!"

"And oh! are we forgot?" cried Electra, laying a lip upon a cherry.

"There's not a poet in his teens but warbles of you morn, noon, and
night," I answered. "There's not a lover mad, young, true, and tender,