“So you are!” said the mother. “I forgot. But it is a fine day, and I should like the walk.”
“But you walk so slowly, with your lame foot.”
“I can walk faster than you think!” said the mother.
So they started, the child leaping and running, and the mother stepping out so bravely with her lame foot that the child soon forgot about it.
The child danced on ahead, and presently he saw a chariot coming towards him, drawn by prancing white horses. In the chariot sat a splendid lady in velvet and furs, with white plumes waving above her dark hair. As she moved in her seat, she flashed with jewels and gold, but her eyes were brighter than her diamonds.
“Are you an angel?” asked the child, running up beside the chariot.
The lady made no reply, but stared coldly at the child: then she spoke a word to her coachman, and he flicked his whip, and the chariot rolled away swiftly in a cloud of dust, and disappeared.
The dust filled the child’s eyes and mouth, and made him choke and sneeze. He gasped for breath, and rubbed his eyes; but presently his mother came up, and wiped away the dust with her blue gingham apron.