It was a fascinating story, but there was much sorrow in it; and the tiny lace handkerchief was quite wet before she finished.
'How old is Wallace?'
'Oh, only a year; but he is mine—my friend, although of course he is only a property.'
'And Skeleton and Mary?'
'They've always been with us. I should die if they left. Will you stop long, Mr Blake? Do; and Mrs Pendlebury and I will try to make you happy—especially I.'
'You droll child! But won't your fairy godmother be expecting us?'
Crona came to her cottage-door to welcome them. She wore the 'mutch,' but was daintily dressed to receive company. Close by was a little shed or bower entirely thatched with green rushes; and underneath this, on a table covered by a snow-white cloth a most dainty repast was laid out, and the witch herself was asked by Antony to preside.
Tod Lowrie hid himself into a ball, and was asleep in the sunshine, with his tail right over his face. Perhaps Wallace thought he was in the way, for he got his nose under the fox and rolled him right away into a dark corner. No doubt Tod Lowrie was awake; but, fox-like, he pretended not to be.
Joe the raven was perched on a rafter, looking sly and demoniac. Every now and then he would say with a sigh, 'Well, well, such is life!' then hold back his head and laugh weirdly.
At first Tim the tame mouse was not to be seen, but Lotty pointed him out to Antony. Tim was seated on the edge of the cat's dish, and every now and then he stretched a little white hand or paw down into pussy's milk, then drew it up and licked it clean.