One of them
took up a part of the garb of the fair shepherdess, and offered to
assist her in adjusting it. "I thank you," cried Imogen, with the utmost
simplicity, "for your good-nature; but I am pretty well now; and every
body dresses herself that is not sick." The inartificial decorations of
her person were quickly adjusted. The delicate proportion of her limbs
was hid beneath a russet mantle; her fair and flowing tresses were
disposed in a braid round her head, and she took her straw hat in her
hand. "Well," said she, "I am obliged to you for your favours. I dare
say it was best for me, though at the time I thought otherwise. For my
head ached very much, and I was so weak--It was wrong for me to think of
going any farther.--Ah, but then, what have my poor father and mother
done all the while? Have not they missed their Imogen, and wondered what
was become of her, and been quite sad and forlorn for fear she should
have come to any harm? Well, I do not know whether I was not right too.
For their ease was of more consequence than mine. I cannot tell. However
I will not now keep them in pain. So good morning to you, my dear kind
friends!" And saying this she was tripping away.
But as she drew towards the door, one of the attendants, with a gentle
force, took hold of her hand.
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