He groaned heavily, then he threw up his head. “Child!” he said, harshly, “your slavery is over.”
His tones were severe, and the child was frightened. She slipped from her seat at the table and stood pale and shrinkingly before him. “Sir, I want to go back to Mrs. Tingsby.”
Titus came to the rescue. “But you haven’t fed your mouse,” he said, kindly, and with the cunning of one young thing in understanding another. “And we’ve got some prime German cheese. Higby—”
The old man went to the big mahogany sideboard and presently came back with some crumbs of cheese.
The little girl’s thoughts were turned in a new direction. Putting her hand in her little bosom she drew out the marvelous handkerchief, produced the ghost of the mouse, fed it, and put it back again. Then Titus skillfully drew her toward his grandfather’s study. “About eleven o’clock on Christmas morning we always have our presents in here.”
It was a pretty sight to see them go down the hall—the dark boy and the pretty little white girl, so much younger than he.
The Judge followed closely behind them, and as they reached the study door and paused, he paused too.
The little girl had caught sight of Princess Sukey sitting on her basket. She stopped short, caught her breath, stepped close to Titus and remained motionless.
“W-w-what’s the matter?” asked the boy, bluntly.
“O, hush,” murmured the child, in an ecstasy, “don’t speak, don’t move, or she will vanish.”