Finally he rubbed himself all over with his long antennae, and then, pointing them full at her, and gazing at her with calm and dispassionate eyes, he said plainly enough: "And now, Monster, what have _you_ to show _me_ ?" Hildegarde was wondering how she could best dispel the scorn with which this majestic insect evidently regarded her, when suddenly something new appeared on her gown,--something black, many-legged, hairy, most hideous; something which ran swiftly but stealthily, with a motion which sent a thrill of horror through her veins.

She started up with a little shriek, shaking off the unlucky spider as if it had been the Black Death in concrete.

Then she looked round with flaming cheeks, to see if her scream had been heard by the hay-makers.

No, they were far away, and too busy to take heed of her.

But the charm was broken.