"Yes," she continued, "he beckoned to me, and I did go over to him, but not very near, for I was greatly afraid of him at first."
"Afraid! dear, and why afraid?" asked I.
"I was afraid, because he looked very old, very frightful, and as if he would hurt me."
"What was there so old and frightful about him?" I asked.
She paused and reflected a little, and then said—
"His face was very large and pale, and it was looking upwards: it seemed very angry, I thought, but maybe it was angry from pain; and sometimes one side of it used to twitch and tremble for a minute, and then to grow quite still again; and all the time he was speaking to me, he never looked at me once, but always kept his face and eyes turned upwards; but his voice was very soft, and he called me little Fanny, and gave me this pound to buy toys with; so I was not so frightened in a little time, and then he sent a long message to you, papa, and told me if I forgot it he would beat me; but I knew he was only joking, so that did not frighten me either."
"And what was the message, my girl?" I asked, patting her pretty head with my hand.
"Now, let me remember it all," she said, reflectively; "for he told it to me twice. He asked me if there was a good bedroom at the top of the house, standing by itself—and you know there is, so I told him so; it was exactly the kind of room that he described. And then he said that his friend would pay two hundred pounds a-year for that bedroom, his board and attendance; and he told me to ask you, and have your answer when he should next meet me."
"Two hundred pounds!" ejaculated my poor little wife; "why that is nearly twice as much as we expected."
"But did he say that his friend was sick, or very old; or that he had any servant to be supported also?" I asked.