Chapter Eleven.
Down the Well.
“Blue-bells the news are spreading,
Ring-a-ting, ting, ting, ting!
All the flowers have voices,
Lovely the songs that they sing;
How the blue-bell rejoices,
Ting-a-ring, ting, ting, ting!”
Ruby shrank back a little.
“I don’t want to see Winfried,” she said, “after all we did. And, oh Mavis, I must be in such a mess—my clothes were all soaked in the sea.”
“No, they weren’t,” said Mavis, laughing; “at least if they were they’ve come right again. Stand up, Ruby, and shake yourself, and look at yourself. There now, did you ever look neater or nicer in your life?”
Ruby stood up and looked at herself as Mavis advised her.
“Is this my own frock?” she said. “No, it can’t be. See, Mavis, it’s all beautifully embroidered with forget-me-nots! And what lovely blue ribbon my hair is tied with; and my hands are so white and clean Mavis, did the princess dress me while I was asleep?”
Mavis nodded her head sagely.
“Something like it,” she said.