"Hurrah for the Stone pere!" cried Mary Cox. "Go on, Lluella."
"You sound as though you cheered for a sea-wall of masonry, or some such maritime structure," complained Jennie. "'Stone pere,' indeed!"
"She sha'n't have any of the next box of creams, Heavy," said Lluella, soothingly.
"And I'm not sure that you will, either," replied the fat girl. "Do tell your story, Miss!" and Heavy yawned monstrously.
"How dare you yawn before 'taps'?" cried Belle. "I'll douse the water-pitcher over you, Jennie."
At this threat the fat girl sat up promptly and again urged Lluella to continue her tale. So Miss Fairfax continued:
"This rich old gentleman with the apple in his eye—in other words, a beautiful daughter—had a great deal more money than sense, I think. He engaged a sculptor to design a fountain for his lawn, and the draped figure you have seen upon that pedestal down yonder, is supposed to be the portrait of the beautiful daughter cut into enduring marble by the man who sculped. But, unfortunately for the old gentleman's peace of mind while he sculped the marble the artist likewise made love to the young lady and they ran away and were married, leaving the old gentleman nothing but the cold marble statue playing the marble harp, in place of a daughter.
"The father's heart at once became as adamant as the marble itself, and he refused to support the sculptor and his wife. Now, either the runaway couple died miserably of starvation in a garret, or were drowned at sea, or were wrecked in a railroad accident, or some other dreadful catastrophe happened to them—I'm not sure which; for after a time there began to be something strange about the fountain. The old man lived here alone with his servants for a number of years; but the servants would not remain long with him, for they said the place was haunted."
"Oh my!" exclaimed Helen.
"That's right, Miss Cameron. Please show the proper amount of thrilling interest. They said the fountain was queer. The water never poisoned anybody; but sometimes the marble strings of the marble harp in the marble hand or the marble daughter would be heard to twang in the night. Weird music came from the fountain at ghostly hours. Of course, the little harp the statue holds is in the form of a lyre; and what the people were who told these stories about the ghostly twanging of the instrument—you may draw your own conclusions," laughed Lluella Fairfax.