She was, as so often before,
of the height of a rather tall lady. She did not stoop in order
to dance with him, but held his hands high in hers. When he saw
her, he gave one spring, and his arms were about her neck, and
her arms holding him to her bosom. The same moment she swept
with him through the open window in at which the moon was
shining, made a circuit like a bird about to alight, and settled
with him in his nest on the top of the great beech-tree. There
she placed him on her lap and began to hush him as if he were
her own baby, and Diamond was so entirely happy that he did not
care to speak a word. At length, however, he found that he was
going to sleep, and that would be to lose so much, that,
pleasant as it was, he could not consent.
"Please, dear North Wind," he said, "I am so happy that I'm
afraid it's a dream. How am I to know that it's not a dream?"
"What does it matter?" returned North Wind.
"I should, cry" said Diamond.
"But why should you cry? The dream, if it is a dream, is a
pleasant one -- is it not?"
"That's just why I want it to be true."
"Have you forgotten what you said to Nanny about her
dream?"
"It's not for the dream itself -- I mean, it's not for the
pleasure of it," answered Diamond, "for I have that, whether it
be a dream or not; it's for you, North Wind; I can't bear to
find it a dream, because then I should lose you.
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