‘And—and will you write that all out for me, please?’
‘All what?’
‘About the too-big woods and the too-old language and the winds that fly without stopping, and the stories——’
‘Oh, oh!’ he laughed; ‘that’s another matter!’
‘Yes, oh you must, Uncle! Make a story of it—an aventure. Write it out as a verywonerfulindeedaventure, and put you and me in it!’ She forgot the touch of sadness and clapped her hands with delight. ‘And then read it out at a Meeting, don’t you see?’
And in the end Paul promised that too, making a great fuss about it, but in his heart secretly pleased and happy.
‘I’ll try,’ he said, with portentous gravity.
The child stared up at him with the sure knowledge in her eyes that between them they held the key to all that was really worth knowing.
He stooped to kiss her hair, but before he could do so, with a laugh and a dancing step he scarcely heard, she was gone from his side and half-way down the passage, so that he kissed the empty air.
‘Bless her mighty little heart!’ he exclaimed, straightening himself up again. ‘Was there ever such a teacher in the world before?’