"Yes, if you like," he answered; and he took her by the hand, and led her up the steps and through the doorway.
II.
UNCLE JACOB'S GIFT.
When Grace passed through the doorway of the red-brick house, which the old priest had raised in such a magical fashion out of the ground, she looked eagerly round the hall, and then clapped her hands and cried, "Why, I do believe everything is here just as it used to be. I don't remember all these beautiful pictures and things; but mother and father have often told me about them. Oh, I wish they could be here to see!"
Her guide did not answer, but still holding her by the hand, he led her into a spacious room. It was so pretty that it almost took Grace's breath away. The softness of the carpets, the colours of the curtains and other drapery, the glittering mirrors on the walls, everything she saw was new and wonderful to her, and seemed like nothing so much as a story out of the "Arabian Nights."
But before she could do anything more than give one little gasp of delight, the old Indian priest at her side waved his golden wand.
Then a curtain which hung before a doorway at a little distance was suddenly looped up, and, with a light step, Grace's mother, looking rosy and well, came into the room.
Grace gave the old man's hand a hard squeeze, but although she had a great longing to run straight into her mother's arms, some strange feeling held her back. After feasting her eyes for a moment on her mother's bright and happy face, she whispered, "Where's father?"
Again the wonderful golden wand was raised, and then the curtain which had fallen into its place before the doorway was pushed hastily aside, and Grace saw her father.
All traces of sorrow and care had left his face; he held his head high, his eyes shone with a glad light, and in his hands he carried a large book bound in white and gold.