He looked at Dreamikins as he spoke, and she danced up and down in ecstasy, her face radiant with smiles.
"Explain it, Dreamikins," said her uncle.
Then Dreamikins stood still, and the sweet reverent look came into her face.
"It's just instead of having Jesus Christ to sleep with us," she said. "We can't have Him. I should burst with joy if I could; but He told us if we got any stranger instead of Him, it would do, and so you've come."
Then George Ferrers' eyes shone with a glad light. He understood.
"I am not worthy," he said.
There was silence for a moment. Then Fibo said heartily:
"You'll be doing us a kindness if you stay. I can't get about, and my visitors are few and far between. Dreamikins shall take you to our spare room; and make yourself at home! I dine at eight."
"I'm ever so grateful," George Ferrers answered, and then Dreamikins led him away.
She was very excited, made Clara bring some hot water, and showed him the soap she had put in the soap-dish, the pins in the pincushion, the bunch of flowers in the vase on the dressing-table. She even turned back the sheet and blankets of the bed to show him his pillows.