The lashes went up as she spoke and he got a good view of those lovely eyes of hers. They held him spellbound. The evident admiration in his glance caused the lashes to fall, and he, released from the momentary thraldom, exclaimed:
"Worry! How could she?"
"She is a perfect little glutton for stories. Once you indulge her, she will do her best to make your life unbearable with her clamour for more. With food of that sort within reach she is a regular Oliver Twist."
A gratified little laugh—he thought he saw the door to Friendship opening a little wider—accompanied his answer:
"Oh, story-telling is in my particular line! I am full of fiction to the brim!"
She reciprocated his laugh, and as she picked up, to resume, her book, said:
"Well, I have warned you! The consequences be on your own head."
"I am moved to disregard your warning! Gracie is so excellent a listener. That is so flattering, you know." Then turning to the child, he continued: "Now, run on to the sands and finish your castle, little woman, before the tide reaches it. When it can no longer withstand Old Ocean's assaults and is washed away, come back. Then I will tell you what became of Jack after the fairy had rescued him from the three-headed giant."
The child was sitting on his knee with her arms round his neck. Between the kisses she was giving him, said:
"You dear old thing! You are the very nicest, delightfullest, beautifullest story-teller I ever met."