rippling sound of laughter—the first I had heard from her, and called, "Come, come!"
I was glad enough to go with her then; and for the next two hours we rambled together in the wood; that is, together in her way, for though always near she contrived to keep out of my sight most of the time. She was evidently now in a gay, frolicsome temper; again and again, when I looked closely into some wide-spreading bush, or peered behind a tree, when her calling voice had sounded, her rippling laughter would come to me from some other spot. At length, somewhere about the centre of the wood, she led me to an immense mora tree, growing almost isolated, covering with its shade a large space of ground entirely free from undergrowth. At this spot she all at once vanished from my side; and after listening and watching some time in vain I sat down beside the giant trunk to wait for her. Very soon I heard a low, warbling sound which seemed quite near.
"Rima! Rima!" I called, and instantly my call was repeated like an echo. Again and again I called, and still the words flew back to me, and I could not decide whether it was an echo or not. Then I gave up calling; and presently the low, warbling sound was repeated, and I knew that Rima was somewhere near me.
"Rima, where are you?" I called.
"Rima, where are you?" came the answer.
"You are behind the tree."
"You are behind the tree."
"I shall catch you, Rima." And this time, instead of repeating my words, she answered, "Oh no."
