For a moment they stared full into each other’s eyes, while the bewilderment on the young man’s face slowly gave place to recognition.
“Glad to see you again, Princess Goldenlocks! Let me congratulate you on the breaking of the spell. Who was the kind fairy who set you free to appear among us in your rightful guise?”
He spoke like a book; he looked tall and handsome enough to be a prince himself. Darsie forgave him on the instant for his former lack of respect, and bent upon him her most dimpling smile.
“I freed myself. I wove my own spell, and when I was tired of it I broke loose.”
Ralph looked down at her with a slow, quizzical smile.
“You had better be careful! Spells are awkward things to move about. They might alight, you know, on some other shoulders, and not be so easily shaken off!”
His eyes, his voice, added point to the words. It was the first, the very first compliment which Darsie had ever received from masculine lips, and compared with the blunt criticisms of Dan Vernon, she found it wonderfully stimulating.
“Come along, girls!” cried Ralph with a sudden return to a natural, boyish manner. “There’s a whole hour yet before tea, and we can’t sit here doing nothing. Let’s go down to the river and punt. Do you punt, Miss Garnett? I’ll teach you! You look the sort of girl to be good at sport. You’ll pick it up in no time.”
The three girls rose obediently and followed Ralph’s lead riverwards, while Noreen and Ida, gesticulating and grimacing in the background, gave the visitor to understand that a great honour had been bestowed upon her, and that she might consider herself fortunate in being the recipient of an unusual mark of attention.