Winnie was a little elf-like thing; her scarlet cloak twisted all crooked with the wind, the skirt of her brown dress gathered up to hold the apples, her hair beaten down over her forehead by the rain, her great dark eyes dancing, her cheeks glowing, the merry mouth ready to break into smiles, she seemed the very incarnation of life and brightness.
"The Queen of robin redbreasts!" flashed through Adrienne's mind, and she sat up with revived animation to greet the new-comers.
Bobbo walked up to her and said, "How do you do?" with a decidedly Irish intonation, retiring then behind her chair and entering into a whispered conversation with little Ellie.
Winnie dropped all her apples upon the hearth-rug, saying, "Fetch the dishes, Bobbo, from the pantry." Then she shook hands with Adrienne, looking at her with clear, intelligent eyes.
"You have your apples," said Adrienne. "Your brother said you did not mind being wet."
"Mind being wet!" said Winnie, with a bright look of amusement, "of course we don't. Are you fond of apples?" she continued, looking down at the rosy fruit and wet leaves. "We thought we'd have some for tea as you were coming, so Bobbo and I went to fetch them. We meant to have been in by the time you came, only it was so dark it made us longer. See, here's a beauty!" she added, picking out a fine pippin. "Do try this; I'm sure it's good."
She held it up towards Adrienne, large and rich-colored, still wet with rain, the cluster of leaves under which it had ripened yet crisp upon its stalk, and Adrienne could not help taking it, and answered smilingly:
"I will have it for dessert after the chickens."
But with a sudden change of expression, forgetting all about Adrienne, Winnie turned to Murtagh, and exclaimed eagerly:
"Oh, it has been such fun getting these; I must tell you all about it. Well, we got past Bland's cottage all safe enough; the rain and the wind were making such a noise there wasn't a chance of our being heard."