t the shrine of the goddess of spring.

It was so lovely that the party straggled considerably. They could not
help putting down the picnic-baskets and leaving the path to explore and
gather flowers. There were so many delightful surprises. Phillida and
Noreen noticed a moorhen's nest built on an overhanging bough that swept
the lake, and saw four tiny downy creatures swimming away very fast to
take cover; Ursula found a specimen of the Truelove-knot, and triumphed
immensely, partly on botanical grounds and partly because she regarded
it as an omen of early matrimony, though needless to say this latter
aspect of her rejoicing was not communicated to Miss Walters, only
chuckled over in private with her intimate friends.

Knowing that the girls would not do any damage, the mistresses allowed
them to disperse, on the understanding that they came at once when they
heard the Guide's whistle.

Dulcie, Carmel, and Prissie had wandered away down the banks of the
little stream where grew pale marsh violets, golden globeflowers, and
the sweet-scented fern. Pushing through the undergrowth above the water,
they found themselves in a tiny natural clearing such as poets of old
would have described as a "a bower." Budding trees encircled it, a
guelder rose bush overtopped it, and delicate fern-like moss sprang
through the grass underfoot. There were fairies, too, in the bower; four
little whitethroats were flitting about in the sunshine. It was perhaps
their first exodus from the nest, for as yet they were without the
slightest sense of fear. They allowed the girls to catch them, fondle
them, and stroke their lovely plumage; they would fly delicately away,
twittering with pleasure, then flit back to the caressing hands like
sprites at play. Anything more innocent and beautiful it would have been
impossible to conceive; it was like a glimpse into Paradise before the
fear and dread of man had passed over God's lesser creatures. The girls
stood absolutely fascinated, till at last, attracted perhaps by some
warning mother-signal, their dainty bird friends took a sudden rapid
flight into the woods and were gone. Carmel looked after them with
shining eyes.

"It's like St. Francis of Assissi and his 'little sisters the birds,'"
she said softly. "Have you read the _Little Flowers of St. Francis_, and
how he preached to the swallows and they all flocked round him and
twittered? I've never seen birds so tame as this! They aren't in Sicily,