"O Diana!" I exclaimed, beholding her rapt expression. "Do you see it—feel it too—all the unending wonder of it?"
"Well, Peregrine," she answered, her gaze still bent upon the pool, "I be wondering where we shall eat and sleep to-night, for we're miles away from Brasted—"
"Heavens, child!" I exclaimed, seating myself beside the stream. "Have you no soul? Cannot you soar above such base material wants? Listen to the voice of this brook; has it no message for you?"
"It sounds cool, Peregrine, so while you rest, I'll bathe my feet."
And sitting down, off came her shoes and stockings forthwith.
Now though, after my first startled glance, I kept my eyes averted, I could not help being very conscious of these white feet as they splashed and dabbled beside me and of their slim shapeliness.
"Diana, have you indeed no soul?" I repeated.
"If I have, it don't trouble me much!" she answered. "Why don't you dabble your feet; 'tis better than drinking?"
"O girl," I sighed, "have you no thought beyond your immediate bodily needs, no dreams of the greater—"
"Dreams?" she exclaimed bitterly. "It don't do for the likes o' me to go a-dreaming! Let them dream as can afford."
"But even the poorest, humblest of us may have our dreams, Diana, visions of a greater self and nobler living. Dreams are the soul's relaxation and inspire us to higher purpose. I think it is this faculty that lifts us above the brute creation."