Snowdon, and that her wedding-dress should be the green kirtle and
wreath of the fairies, and that her bridesmaids should be her Gypsy
friends, Sinfi Lovell and Rhona Boswell. This I acceded to with
alacrity.

It was now that I fully realised for the first time her extraordinary
gift of observation and her power of describing what she had observed
in the graphic language that can never be taught save by the teacher
Nature herself. In a dozen picturesque words she would flash upon my
very senses the scene that she was describing. So vividly did she
bring before my eyes the scenery of North Wales, that when at last I
went there it seemed quite familiar to me. And so in describing
individuals, her pictures of them were like photographs.

Graylingham Wood was our favourite haunt. This place and the
adjoining piece of waste land, called the Wilderness, had for us all
the charms of a primeval forest. Here in the early spring we used to
come and watch the first violet uplifting its head from the dark green
leaves behind the mossy boles, and listen for the first note of the
blackcap, the nightingale's herald, and the first coo of the
wood-pigeons among the bare and newly-budding trees. And here, in the
summer, we used to come as soon as breakfast was over with as many
story-books as we could carry, and sit on the grass and revel in the
wonders of the _Arabian Nights_. the _Tales of the Genii_, and the
_Seven Champions of Christendom_, till all the leafy alleys of the
wood were glittering with armed knights and Sinbads and Aladdins. The
story of Camaralzaman and Badoura was, I think, Winnie's chief
favourite. She could repeat it almost word for word. The idea of the
two lovers being carried to each other by genii through the air and
over the mountain tops had an especial fascination for her. I was