"She's crying! She's crying! She mustn't cry here!"

Sara had never had a Gunkus touch her before; but, though they hurried
her so fast that she was breathless, and the tears hung where they
were on her lashes without having time to fall, they were as gentle
with her as possible, and she understood that their anxiety was all on
her account. She was further reassured when she saw the Teacup
fluttering and hopping along--now on one side, now on the other, and
now in front--and murmuring, "What in Zeelup, my dear?" with the
utmost solicitude expressed on her gentle old face. Sara knew that the
Teacup was timid, and seldom left the Garden; and she realized that
her affection and concern for her must be very deep, to bring her
fluttering along with her in this fashion, without stopping to ask the
Plynck, or to think of the consequences to herself and her
consanguineous handle.

By this time they had passed through the hawthorn hedge that bounded
the Garden, and could see just below them a beautiful little Vale,
with a rainbow arching over the entrance to it, like a gate. Inside
the Vale the view was not very distinct, for streamers of light mist
blew across its green moss, and its white boulders, and the little
stream that wound down the middle of it. It was rather a sad-looking
little place, of course, but not bitter-looking or very long; and now
and then a sun-pencil struck across it, and for a moment made more
rainbows like the one at the entrance.

As soon as they had passed through the hedge the Gunki stopped,
breathing heavily and mopping their brows with their hatbands.