away and sat down hard on the grass, looking very proud and sniffly.
“Never mind,” said Poor Cecco. “I don’t suppose it’s much of a dance after all! When we get home, Jensina, we’ll have a great ball and only invite whom we want, and there’ll be lemonade and a cake with icing, and you shall dance all night long!”
But Jensina was not to be comforted so easily; her pride had been hurt, and moreover she could still hear faintly, through the closed door of the molehill, the scraping of fiddles and the shuffling of feet. So she continued to sit there, sulking on the grass, and to judge by her expression it was far wiser to leave her alone.
As for Bulka, he was dropping with sleep, so Poor Cecco propped him up against Jensina, with the bundle beside them, and set off alone to search for a night’s lodging.
