"Come, you must take off those dreadful things; why, you are wet through"--and she passed her hand over my back--"and you must tell me what you are and where you come from. But you are chilled now and need something warm, so come to the Hall and you can tell me as we go." As she spoke she swung to her head a basket I had not before observed; it was heavy, for she straightened herself to support it; and the weight, until she balanced it, brought out the muscles of her neck. She put her arms akimbo and showed the way. "Well," she said, as we walked together side by side, "when are you going to begin?" "How and where shall I begin?" answered I. "You forget that I too have questions to ask; I am bewildered. Who and what are you? In what country am I? Where did you get that beautiful dress?" I stepped a little away from her to observe the beauty of her form. "We try to make all our garments beautiful," she answered, simply; "but this is the common dress of all--or rather the dress commonly worn in the country. We dress a little differently in town--but what do you find peculiar in my attire? What else could I wear out in the fields?" I looked at the drapery, which did not hang lower than the knee; at the girdle that barely indicated the waist; at the chiton gathered by a brooch on one shoulder, leaving bare the whole length of her richly moulded arm. "I would not have you wear anything else," said I, restraining my admiration; "but our women dress differently." "Tell me about them," said she. "I will," answered I, "but tell _me_ first where I am and where we are going?" "You are near a place called Tyringham," answered she, "and you are going with me to breakfast at the Hall." As she spoke we were walking down a grassy slope and came in sight of a meadow on the left, through which meandered a crystal stream; it flowed from the right of the hill on which we stood, and just below where it fell in cascades over successive ledges it was straddled by a mill smothered in jasmine and purple clematis. The moment the mill came in sight my companion uttered a loud call that came echoing back to us from the surrounding hills. Her call was answered by several voices, and soon there came to meet us a youth as handsome in his way as my own companion. He, too, wore the Greek dress; he was about eighteen years of age and so like the girl that I guessed at once he was her brother. He put me out of countenance by staring at me with open-mouthed wonder and then bursting into an uncontrolled roar of laughter. But his sister took him by the arm and shook him. "Stop laughing," she said. "Don't you see he doesn't like it?" The boy stopped immediately--for I confess his laughter was not as agreeable to me as hers--and there came upon him an expression of the gentlest solicitude. "I am sorry," he said, with tears of laughter still in his eyes; "I thought you were playing a joke on us." I tried to look pleasant.