V
One day not long after the Flamp's visit, Tilsa ran into old Alison's room to ask something, and was surprised and grieved to find her nurse rocking to and fro in her chair, with her face covered. Now and then between her fingers trickled the tears, and Alison sighed deeply.
'What is it?' Tilsa asked, kneeling beside her. 'Can I do anything, dear Alison?'
'Only stay here, dearie,' sobbed the old woman. 'I was remembering happier days. Stay here, Tilsa dear. All I want is sympathy.'
So Tilsa stayed, and Alison soon was herself again. 'Thank you, dearie,' she said as she wiped her eyes and jumped up ready to set to work again; 'you have done me a world of good. Always be sympathetic if you can. No one knows how grateful it is.'
It was nearly bed-time, and Tilsa went downstairs to say good-night to the Liglid. On the way her little white forehead was puckered into lines like a railway map.
She entered her grandfather's room softly. The old man was seated on one side of his desk; on the other was the Town Clerk of Ule. Between them was a large sheet of paper with these words at the top:
'A BILL FOR THE CIRCUMVENTION
OF THE FLAMP.'
They were too busy to notice Tilsa's entrance.
'We must hurry it through the House,' the Liglid was saying, 'or there won't be time. Rigmarola is a long way off.'