The patch of garden in front was stuffed with wall-flowers and violets.

The sun lay warm on them; their breath stirred in the cup, like the rich, sweet fragrance of the wine of day.
Majendie grasped Anne's arm and led her forward.
In the middle of the green circle, under the streaming sun, cradled in warm grass, a girl baby sat laughing and fondling her naked feet.

She laughed as she lay on her back and opened one folded, wrinkled foot to the sun; she laughed as she threw herself forward and beat her knees with the outspread palms of her hands; she laughed as she rocked her soft body to and fro from her rosy hips; then she stopped laughing suddenly, and began crooning to herself a delicious, unintelligible song.
"Look," said Majendie, "that's what I wanted to show you." "Oh--oh--oh--" said Anne, and looked, and stood stock-still.
The beatitude of that adorable little figure possessed the scene.

Green earth and blue sky were so much shelter and illumination to its pure and solitary joy.
"Did you ever see anything so heart-rending ?" said Majendie.

"That anything could be so young!" Anne shook her head, dumb with the fascination.
As they approached again, the little creature rolled on its waist, and crawled over the grass to her feet.
"The little lamb--" said she, and stooped, and lifted it.
It turned to her, cuddling.