n the hillside, and curled in snowy circles through the coves and
hollows. At last she laid her long white arms over the hill-tops, and
lifted her fair head, and so melted quite away and was gone, and the sun
had it all his own way.

Then Hildegarde and Rose, who had been standing in silent delight and
wonder, gave each a sigh of pleasure, and hugged each other a little,
because it was so beautiful, and went into the boat-house. Thence they
reappeared in a few minutes, clad in close-fitting raiment of blue
flannel, their arms bare, their hair knotted in Gothic fashion on top of
their heads. Then Hildegarde stood on the edge of the wharf, and rose on
the tips of her toes, and joined her palms high above her head, then
sprang into the air, describing an arc, and disappeared with a silver
splash which rivalled that of her own sturgeon. But Rose, who could not
dive, just sat down on the wharf and then rolled off it, in the most
comfortable way possible. When they both came up, there was much
puffing, and shaking of heads, and little gasps and shrieks of delight.
The water by the wharf was nearly up to the girls' shoulders, and
farther than this Rose could not go, as she could not swim; so a rope
had been stretched from the end of the wharf to the shore, and on this
she swung, like the mermaids on the Atlantic cable, in Tenniel's
charming picture, and floated at full length, and played a thousand
gambols. She could see the white pebbled bottom through the clear water,
and her own feet as white as the pebbles (Rose had very pretty feet; and
now that they were no longer useless appendages, she could not help
liking to look at them, though she was rather ashamed of it). Now she
swung herself near the shore, and caught hold of the twisted roots of
the great willow that leaned over the water, and pulled the branches
down till they fell like a green canopy over her; and now she splashed
the water about, for pure pleasure of seeing the diamond showers as the
sunlight caught them. But Hildegarde swam out into the middle of the
river, cleaving the blue water with long, regular strokes; and then
turned on her back, and lay contemplating the universe with infinite
content.

"You are still in the shade, you poor Rosebud!" she cried. "See! I am
right _in_ the sparkle. I can gather gold with both hands. How many
broad pieces will you have?" She sent a shower of drops toward the
shore, which Rose returned with interest; and a battle-royal