Madam Breeze presented the Ensign to the Fairy, and then in her own jerky way told the story of the Brownies' troubles. Whereat Dew was sorry and excited, and shook so many pearl drops around her that Lawe had to step beyond the circle of the shower to save himself from being drenched. That was the Fairy's way of shedding tears, it would seem.
"What I want you to do," continued the Elf, "is to be up bright and early to-morrow, and cover the lawn at Hillside with these pretty gems of yours. The Pixies—faugh!—have their tents spread out like the camp of Joshua in the plains of Moab. Sprinkle 'em well—wheeze! Make every single thread a string of dew-drops. We'll attend to the rest. What say you, my dear?—hoogh!"
"Will the Cloud Elves be at home?" asked the Fairy.
"Aye,—I've seen to that. The way'll be clear. What say you?—wheeze!"
"Oh, I must consult my husband first, you know. I can do nothing without Dewpoint. I'll run and ask him."
"Aha! you're as sweet as ever on that—wheeze!—hubby of yours. Quite—hoogh!—right! Go and consult with Dewpoint."
"May I go in with the Fairy?" asked Lawe, who was curious to see her home.
"Oh, to be sure," said Dew, "and welcome. Come in, both of you!"
"Not I, thank you," said the Madam. "Shouldn't wonder if I had taken my death of cold already—hoogh! In with you, Ensign, and hasten back."
The water in leaping over the edge of the precipice left a space of a foot or more between the falling sheet and the face of the rock. By this path Lawe passed under the fall. He noted that the light shone through the tumbling stream as through a frosted window, and made every object within visible. Above him was a roof and beside him a wall of rushing water, whose loud, steady roar, as it fell into the pool, quite drowned the sound of his voice. In a moment he was drenched with spray. The stones over which he stepped were wet and slippery, and compelled careful walking. Presently Dew stopped before an opening in the rock, and beckoned Lawe to follow her.