“Very sensible in them,” flashed Maya.
“Do you mean to insinuate that I am afraid of you—I of you?” With a jerk the dragon-fly let go of the rush, which sprang back into its former position, and flew off with a whirr and sparkle of its wings, straight down to the surface of the water, where it made a superb appearance reflected in the mirror of the lake. You’d have thought there were two dragon-flies. Both moved their crystal wings so swiftly and finely that it seemed as though a brilliant sheen of silver were streaming around them.
Maya quite forgot her grief over poor Jack Christopher and all sense of her own danger.
“How lovely! How lovely!” she cried enthusiastically, clapping her hands.
“Do you mean me?” The dragon-fly spoke in astonishment, but quickly added: “Yes, I must admit I am fairly presentable. Yesterday I was flying along the brook, and you should have heard some human beings who were lying on the bank rave over me.”
“Human beings!” exclaimed Maya. “Oh my, did you see human beings?”
“Of course,” answered the dragon-fly. “But you’ll be very interested to know my name, I’m sure. My name is Loveydear, of the order Odonata, of the family Libellulidæ.”
“Oh, do tell me about human beings,” implored Maya, after she had introduced herself.
The dragon-fly seemed won over. She seated herself on the leaf beside Maya. And the little bee let her, knowing Miss Loveydear would be careful not to come too close.