pedestaled in leafy recesses, Satyrs grinned at them apishly, and the
arrows of divers pot-bellied Cupids threatened them, and Fauns piped
for them ditties of no tone; the birds were about shrill avocations
overhead, and everywhere the heatless, odourful air was a caress; but
for all this, Miss Hugonin and Mr. Kennaston were silent and very
fidgetty.
Margaret was hatless--and the glory of the eminently sensible spring
sun appeared to centre in her hair--and violet-clad; and the gown,
like most of her gowns, was all tiny tucks and frills and flounces,
diapered with semi-transparencies--unsubstantial, foam-like, mere