And then the
trees opened, and she saw before her the village with its cottages,
grey and whitewashed, its gardens and orchards, mirrored in the
brimming tide, all trembling in the morning light and yet exquisitely
still. Far up the river, beyond the village and the bridge, a level
green meadow ran out, narrowing the channel; and here beneath the
apple-trees--for the meadow was half an orchard--had been set out
many lines of white-covered tables, at which the Mayers made
innocently merry.
Innocently, did I say? Well, I have known up-country folk before
now to be scandalised by some things which we in the Duchy think
innocent enough. So let me admit that the three long-boats conveyed
something more than the youth and beauty of Troy to that morning's
Maying; that when launched from Mr. Runnells' yard they were not
entirely what they seemed: that from their trial spin across the bay
they returned some inches deeper in the water, and yet they did not
leak. Had you perchance been standing by the shore in the half-light
as they came up over the shallows, you might have wondered at the
number of times they took ground, and at the slowness of the tide to
lift and float them. You might have wondered again why, after they
emerged from the deep shadow of Sir Felix Felix-Williams' woods upon
the southern shore, albeit in shallow water, they seemed to feel
their hindrances no longer.
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