was of some
kind of sparkling white, and round her waist was a lovely silver
girdle--her sleeves too were looped up with silver bands, and, prettiest
of all, two snow-white wings were fastened to her shoulders. She looked
like a fairy queen, or like a silvery bird turned into a little girl.
And in her hand she held another pair of wings exactly like her own.
Hugh gazed at her.
"Have you been dressing up?" he said, "and in the middle of the night?
oh how funny! But O, Jeanne, how pretty you look!"
Jeanne laughed merrily. "Come, get up quick, then," she said, "and I'll
make you pretty too. Only I can't promise you a head-dress like mine,
Cheri."
She gave her head a little toss, which made Hugh look at it. And now he
noticed that on it she wore something very funny indeed, which at first,
being black--for Jeanne's hair, you know, was black too--had not caught
his attention. At first he thought it was some kind of black silk hood
or cap, such as he had seen worn by some of the peasants in Switzerland,
but looking again--no, it was nothing of the kind--the head-dress had a
head of its own, and as Hugh stared, it cocked it pertly on one side in
a way Hugh would have known again anywhere. Yes, it was Dudu, sitting on
Jeanne's smooth little head as comfortably as if he had always been
intended to serve the purpose of a bonnet.
"Dudu!" exclaimed Hugh.
"Of course," said Jeanne. "You didn't suppose we could have gone without
him, Cheri."
"Gone where?" said Hugh, quite sitting up in bed by this time, but still
a good deal puzzled.
"Up into the tapestry castle," said Jeanne, "where we've been wishing so
to go, though we had to wait for the moonlight, you know."
The word made Hugh glance towards the window, for, for the first time he
began to wonder how it was his room was so bright. Yes, it was streaming
in, in a beautiful flood, and the tapestry on the walls had taken again
the lovely tints which by daylight were no longer visible.
Hugh sprang out of bed. "Are these for me?" he said, touching the wings
which Jeanne held.
"Certainly," she replied. "Aren't they pretty? Much nicer than your
wall-climbers, Cheri. I chose them. Turn round and let me put them on."
She slipped them over his head--they seemed to be fastened to a band,
and in a moment they had fitted themselves perfectly into their place.
They were so light that Hugh was hardly conscious of them, and yet he
could move them about--backwards and fo
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