"What a brave old church!" said Connie.
The next day I awoke very early, full of the anticipated attempt. I got up at once, found the weather most promising, and proceeded first of all to have a look at Connie's litter, and see that it was quite sound. Satisfied of this, I rejoiced in the contemplation of its lightness and strength.
After breakfast I went to Connie's room, and told her that Mr. Percivale and I had devised a treat for her. Her face shone at once.
"But we want to do it our own way."
"Of course, papa," she answered.
"Will you let us tie your eyes up?"
"Yes; and my ears and my hands too. It would be no good tying my feet, when I don't know one big toe from the other."
And she laughed merrily.
"We'll try to keep up the talk all the way, so that you sha'n't weary of the journey."
"You're going to carry me somewhere with my eyes tied up. O! how jolly! And then I shall see something all at once! Jolly! jolly!—Getting tired!" she repeated. "Even the wind on my face would be pleasure enough for half a day. I sha'n't get tired so soon as you will—you dear, kind papa! I am afraid I shall be dreadfully heavy. But I sha'n't jerk your arms much. I will lie so still!"