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The Little house
’Idon’tsaythat,’Maimieansweredpolitely;’ofcourseyourfaceisjustatinybithomely,but——’Reallyitwasquiteawkwardforher.
Fortunatelysherememberedaboutherfatherandthebazaar.HehadgonetoafashionablebazaarwhereallthemostbeautifulladiesinLondonwereonviewforhalfacrownthesecondday,butonhisreturnhome,insteadofbeingdissatisfiedwithMaimie’smother,hehadsaid,’Youcan’tthink,mydear,whatareliefitistoseeahomelyfaceagain.’
Maimierepeatedthisstory,anditfortifiedBrownietremendously,indeedshehadnolongertheslightestdoubtthattheDukewouldchooseher.Soshescuddedawayuptheribbon,callingouttoMaimienottofollowlesttheQueenshouldmischiefher.
ButMaimie’scuriositytuggedherforward,andpresentlyatthesevenSpanishchestnutsshesawawonderfullight.Shecreptforwarduntilshewasquitenearit,andthenshepeepedfrombehindatree.
Thelight,whichwasashighasyourheadabovetheground,wascomposedofmyriadsofglow-wormsallholdingontoeachother,andsoformingadazzlingcanopyoverthefairyring.Therewerethousandsoflittlepeoplelookingon,buttheywereinshadowanddrabincolourcomparedtothegloriouscreatureswithinthatluminouscircle,whoweresobewilderinglybrightthatMaimiehadtowinkhardallthetimeshelookedatthem.
ItwasamazingandevenirritatingtoherthattheDukeofChristmasDaisiesshouldbeabletokeepoutofloveforamoment:yetoutoflovehisduskygracestillwas:youcouldseeitbytheshamedlooksoftheQueenandcourt(thoughtheypretendednottocare),bythewaydarlingladiesbroughtforwardforhisapprovalburstintotearsastheyweretoldtopasson,andbyhisownmostdrearyface.
