You
see that, I'm sure."
"Not quite," said Kathleen.
"Explanations always weary me," Phoebus interrupted. "Shall we
join the ladies?"
On the further side of the pool was a large group, so white that it
seemed to make a great white hole in the trees. Some twenty or
thirty figures there were in the group all statues and all alive. Some
were dipping their white feet among the gold and silver fish, and
sending ripples across the faces of the seven moons. Some were
pelting each other with roses roses so sweet that the girls could
smell them even across the pool. Others were holding hands and
dancing in a ring, and two were sitting on the steps playing
cat's-cradle which is a very ancient game indeed with a thread of
white marble.
As the new-comers advanced a shout of greeting and gay laughter
went up. "Late again, Phoebus!" someone called out. And another:
"Did one of your horses cast a shoe?" And yet another called out
something about laurels.
"I bring two guests," said Phoebus, and instantly the statues
crowded round, stroking the girls hair, patting their cheeks, and
calling them the prettiest love-names.
"Are the wreaths ready, Hebe?" the tallest and most splendid of the
ladies called out. "Make two more!"
And almost directly Hebe came down the steps, her round arms
hung thick with rose-wreaths. There was one for each marble head.
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