'Oh, you never have!' said she, in distress; 'what could you have
thought? I was only trying to cheer up poor Snap, who is out of
sorts. What a mad romp you must have thought me, sir!'

'Why, what's the matter with Snap?'

'I don't know. Poor Snap' (stooping down to fondle him, and at the
same time to hide her face from me, for she was talking against time
to conceal her great confusion and agitation at seeing me. _That_ was
perceptible enough.)

Then she remembered she was hatless.

'Oh dear, where's my hat?' said she, looking round. I had picked up
the hat before accosting her, and it was now dangling behind me. I,
too, began talking against time, for the beating of my heart began
again at the thought of what I was going to say and do. 'Hat!' I
said; 'do _you_ wear hats, Winifred? I should as soon have thought of
hearing the Queen of the Tylwyth Teg ask for her hat as you, after
such goings-on as those I have just been witnessing. You see I have
not forgotten the Welsh you taught me.'

'Oh, but my hat--where is it?' cried she, vexed and sorely ashamed.
So different from the unblenching child who loved to stand hatless
and feel the rain-drops on her bare head!

'Well, Winifred, I've found a hat on the sand,' I said; 'here it is.'

'Thank you, sir,' said she, and stretched out her hand for it.