Suddenly Miranda, with an exclamation of anguish, and innumerable lights and shadows playing over her lovely face, clapped her hands, crying aloud, "My book! my book!" and ran to the bank.
Prince Ferdinand was at her side.

"What have you lost ?" he said.
"My book!" she answered, her delicious curls swinging across her shoulders to the stream.

Then turning to him, "Oh, no, no! let me entreat you not to," she said; "I do not so very much mind losing it." And in her eagerness to restrain him she unconsciously laid her gentle hand upon his arm, and took the force of motion out of him.
"Indeed, I do not really care for the silly book," she continued, withdrawing her hand quickly, and reddening.

"Pray, do not!" The young gentleman had kicked off his shoes.

No sooner was the spell of contact broken than he jumped in.