Like Plucritus he appeared taller and stronger here, lacking only unnecessary outward show.
And Ursula, like Vestné, was attired in a robe of wondrous loveliness and grace, but, unlike her, her brightness was infectious.
The meal was the gayest I had ever had, the food the most delicious, and from it I rose strengthened, lightened and refreshed, to an extent that hitherto had appeared impossible.
Sunbeam’s tea-cake had disappeared, for all had had a share of it. In appearance it had been very plain, but I think if any confectioner on the earth had learnt the recipe he would have made a fortune and supplied even the most epicurean king.
“Now,” said Virginius, after we had left the table, and gathered round the fire, “I have two presents, one for Sunbeam, and one for you, Genius,” and he brought two small packets from a pocket and handed one to each of us.
“Do you receive nothing, mother?” I asked, for after the first hesitation the sweetest of words slipped out most naturally.
She shook her head and smiled.
“No,” she replied; “when we are married our husbands give us nothing but our children. The risk of getting them is hard enough and dangerous enough to prove to us the strongest love.”
She took Sunbeam on her knee and pressed her cheek against her own.
“This is my present,” she went on, “and it will last me in happiest contentment until I get another. But let me see these other presents, I am curious.”