She stopped, just on the right side of tears.
'There's a glass bird with a spun-lovely tail,' said Mabel persuasively, 'and sweets and fishes, and a crocodile that goes waggle-waddle when you wind him up.'
'My dears,' said Sir Christopher, and cleared his throat. 'My dears,' he began again, and again he stopped.
'We'll go away if—if you'd rather,' said Phyllis, and sniffed miserably.
'No, no!' he said; 'no, no—I was only thinking. I never thought—would you like to bring the tree into the house? It's just the sort of thing my little girl always liked.'
'Oh yes,' said Phyllis; 'we'll go and fetch it now.'
He closed the door gently. The children flew back to Guy and the tree.
'Oh, Guy! we've to take the tree inside the house! And he's got a little girl—at least, he says so. Come on, quick. We'd better carry it. The barrow's so heavy, and it does interfere so!'
They carried the pot between them. It was very heavy, and they had to put it down and rest several times. But at last they dumped it down in the dark on the front-door step of the castle, and breathed deep breaths of fatigue, relief, and excitement.
The door opened, and opened wide, and this time light streamed from within.