HOW I MADE A SURPRISING DISCOVERY, WHICH, HOWEVER, MAY NOT SURPRISE THE READER IN THE LEAST
From brake and thicket gemmed with a myriad sparkling dewdrops, birds were singing a jubilant paean, as well indeed they might upon so fair a morning; yet these were but a chorus to the singer down by the brook whose glorious voice soared in swelling ecstasy and sank in plaintive sweetness only to rise again, so high and clear and ineffably sweet as seemed verily to inspire the birds to an eager and joyful emulation.
So they sang together thus in pretty rivalry, the birds and Diana, until, her song ended, I went my way and presently found her beside the bubbling rill, combing out her shining hair. At sight of me she laughed and, tossing back her tresses, flourished her comb in a sweep that took in radiant sky, earth and sparkling brook.
"O Peregrine, ain't it glorious!" she cried.
"It is!" said I, staring at her loveliness, whereupon she flushed and recommenced combing her hair.
"Thought you was asleep an' snoring," said she in her most ungracious manner.
"Well, you see I'm not, and besides I don't snore!"
"Tush, how can you know?"
"I don't think I do—and for heaven's sake why talk of such things on such a morning, Diana?"
"Because!" she answered, turning away.