"O la!" cried she, waving the fork at me with a pettish gesture. "Don't try to come your fine airs over me in such breeches and your eyes black and face all smutty—go an' get washed first!"
At this I turned and marched out of the barn, quite forgetting soap and towel until she came running to thrust them upon me, willy-nilly.
"There's ham an' eggs for breakfast!" she volunteered.
"Then I trust you will enjoy them," said I stiffly, "but as regards myself I most certainly shall not—"
"Don't frown," she admonished, "for with your face so bruised and swollen it do make you look that comical!" And laughing, she sped away, leaving me to scowl upon the empty air.
But the morning was glorious; I stood in a dew-spangled world radiant with sunshine while all about me the feathered host, that choir invisible, poured forth a song of universal praise to greet this new-born day. With this joyful clamour in my ears, this fresh, green world before my eyes, I grew joyful too, and hasted towards the brook, my foolish petulance quite forgotten.
Following these murmurous, sun-kissed waters, I came where they widened suddenly into a dark and silent pool; and here, well-screened by bending willows, I ventured to bathe and found in the cool, sweet water such gasping delight that I could have sung and shouted for pure joy of it. Greatly invigorated and prodigiously hungry, I donned my unlovely garments happily enough but stooping above this watery mirror to comb my damp locks into such order as my fingers might compass, I beheld my face, its features bruised and distorted out of all shape; and remembering Diana had laughed at and made mock of these disfigurements, I sat down, not troubling about my hair, and began to muse upon her heartlessness, contrasting this with my aunt Julia's unfailing sympathy and tender, loving care, and immediately felt myself woefully solitary, miserably cold and desperately hungry. The world, despite sunshine and bird-song, was a dark and evil place wherein I stood desolate and forlorn; here, bowing my head between my hands, I began to despair of myself and the future. But now, and all at once, what must obtrude upon these gloomy thoughts but a vision of ham and eggs, a tantalisation that would not be banished.
"Perry—green!" I lifted my head to listen intently; and presently heard it again, a voice rich and full and smooth as note of blackbird, calling upon my name: "Perry—green! Breakfast's ready—ham an' eggs! Perry—green!" Snatching soap and towel I rose, my gloomy thoughts forgotten again, and hasted whither this voice summoned me.
"Are ye washed?" she enquired, dexterously skewering a large ham rasher upon the iron fork and transferring it to a platter.
"I am!"