"Mr. Byrd ought never to wear tweed, do you think? It makes him look heavy," remarked Felicity.
Again Mary had to suppress a feeling of irritation. "I rather like it," she said. "It's so comfy and English."
"Yes?" breathed Felicity vaguely, walking on.
Suddenly she appeared to have a return of animation.
She floated forward quickly for a few steps, turned with a swaying movement, and waited for Mary with hands and feet poised.
"The grass under one's feet, Mrs. Byrd, it makes them glad. One could almost dance!"
Again she fluttered ahead, this time overtaking Constance and Stefan, who had halted in the middle of the lawn. She swayed before them on tiptoe.
"Connie," she was saying as Mary came up, "why does one not more often dance in the open?"
Though her lids still drooped she was half smiling as she swayed.
"It may be the spring; or perhaps I have caught the pastoral mood of Mr. Byrd's work; but I should like to dance a little. Music," her palms were lifted in repudiation, "is unnecessary. One has the birds."
"Good for you, Felicity! That _will_ be fun," Constance exclaimed delightedly. "You don't dance half often enough, bad girl. Come along, people, let's sit on the porch steps."
They arranged themselves to watch, Constance and Mary on the upper step, Stefan on the lower, his shoulders against his wife's knees, while Felicity dexterously slipped off her sandals and stockings.
Her dress, modeled probably on that of the central figure in Botticelli's Spring, was of white chiffon, embroidered with occasional formal sprigs of green leaves and hyacinth-blue flowers, and kilted up at bust and thigh. Her loosely draped sleeves hung barely to the elbow. A line of green crossed from the shoulders under each breast, and her hair, tightly bound, was decorated with another narrow band of green. She looked younger than in the city--almost virginal. Stooping low, she gathered a handful of blue scylla from the grass, Mary barely checking an exclamation at this ravishing of her beloved bulbs. Then Felicity lay down upon the grass; her eyes closed; she seemed asleep. They waited silently for some minutes. Stefan began to fidget.
Suddenly a robin called. Felicity's eyes opened. They looked calm and dewy, like a child's. She raised her head--the robin called again. Felicity looked about her, at the flowers in her hand, the trees, the sky. Her face broke into smiles, she rose tall, taller, feet on tiptoe, hands reaching skyward. It was the waking of spring. Then she began to dance.