rested a
spangled crown of light texture. She felt it almost heavy just now, and
murmured to herself in a sentimental voice, "Uneasy lies the head that
wears a crown."

Boris, with his eyes still full of that unanswered question, came near
and looked at her.

"Are you having an awfully dull time, Nonie?" he asked.

"Oh, it's all right," said Nora, who would have scorned to complain.

"You're going to give us our presents by-and-by."

"Yes."

"You'll feel jolly and hop o' my thumb, won't you?"

"Oh, I'll feel nothing special," replied Nora, who did not wish to
encourage this brownie in his efforts after familiarity.

"How hot you look, Boris," she said, with a slight laugh.

"Hot?" echoed Boris. "I'm boiling. It's these abominations of tights.
Nonie, I'd like to tell you something; it's very important, very."

"You can't possibly tell it to me now, Boris," replied Nora; "don't
attempt to come too near, disarranging my clouds. Oh, what a naughty,
troublesome boy you are; you have trodden upon that piece of white
tarlatan, and it has all got out of shape. Do run away; do leave me
alone."

Boris scampered off; he had suddenly caught a glimpse of the round,
smooth face of the shepherdess, Molly, in the distance. If he could only
catch her up, she would allow him to whisper in her ear. Nora was always
rather a cross patch, but Molly was kind. Molly would be interested,
even though she was a shepherdess. He trod on some long trains as he
skimmed by. People called him a tiresome child and an awkward little
worry, but he did not heed them; he was gaining on Molly, and Molly
would be sure to listen to him. Everything would be all right when Molly
knew. Now, he had all but reached her, but no, how tiresome--how more
than tiresome--a shepherd came up and held out his crook to Molly, who
held out hers to him, and then they joined hands, and then they danced
away, away, away, far, very far from Boris and his question.

He turned round and stamped his pointed shoe in his vexation.

Nell suddenly came up and touched him.

"Did you find Molly? Have you told her?" she asked.

"No, I can't get to her," replied Boris; "she's dancing over there with
that horrid shepherd; he's only Hugh Pierson, and he doesn't look a bit
well. Let's dance by ourselves, Nell; let's forget; 'twasn't nothing but
nonsense, I'm sure."

"I can't forget," replied Nell.

"Well, aren't you a little bit hungry? There's lobster and pink
champagne