Charity smiled radiantly.
"Oh, of course, I would give you a horse to ride, and six dogs, and a part of the garden, which would be wired into a little zoo, and there would be all kinds of animals in it, and at the side a hospital where you would doctor the sick ones and mend their broken legs."
"Oh, how heavenly!"
"And Faith," went on Charity, "would have to come out with me, and pay visits to all kinds of wonderful old men with beards. Some would live in cottages, and give her baked apples for tea, some would live in beautiful houses, but they would all be very glad to see her and would sit up and talk with her for hours."
"Oh," cried Faith, clapping her hands, "I think I should have the best, for my surprise would be fresh every day. I could see one new old man every day, and Charity and Granny would soon come to the end of theirs. What about Aunt Alice?"
Charity looked thoughtful.
"I should take her one day into the drawing-room, and there would be a tall, nice, smiling man, with manners like a prince. And then I should shut the door and go away, and he would ask her to marry him, and he would take her away to a house nearly as big as mine—not quite, perhaps."
"You ridiculous child!" laughed Aunt Alice.
"Mrs. Cox always said you ought to get married," said Charity, "she said you were too young and pretty to be an old maid."
"Well," said Aunt Alice, "you would be quite a fairy godmother to us all, Charity, but, my dear child, the novelty of riches even wears off after a time. If you can have everything you want, you soon want nothing, and that stage brings discontent as well as content."