“What tune does she play?” asked David.
“By the margin of fair Zurich’s waters,” answered Pennie; “sometimes she sings too, but not often, because she is very sad.”
“Why?” inquired Ambrose, ruffling up his hair with one hand, as he always did when he was getting interested.
Pennie paused a moment that her next remark might have full weight; then very impressively and slowly she said:
“She has not always been a Goblin Lady.”
This was so unexpected, and suggested so much to be unfolded, that the children gazed speechless at Pennie, who presently continued:
“Once she was a beautiful—”
“Is she ugly now?” hastily inquired David.
“Don’t, Davie; let Pennie go on,” said Ambrose.
“I want to know just one thing,” put in Nancy; “if it’s dark when she comes, how does she see to read the music?”