She rose, took it off, and laid it at my feet--I imagine from a sense of propriety.

I put it again on her shoulders, and showed her where to put her arms through.

She smiled, looked at the feathers a little and stroked them--again took it off and laid it down, this time by her side.

When she left me, she carried it with her, and I saw no more of it for some days.

At length she came to me one morning wearing it, and carrying another garment which she had fashioned similarly, but of the dried leaves of a tough evergreen.