Tommy turned around and looked at her. His big, dreamy eyes looked up into her soft brown ones. “Oh, Phœbe,” he said, “I suppose I must have been dreaming. I’m hardly awake yet. I saw something so wonderful in Still Pool.”
Phœbe looked at the child with deep interest. “You saw a beautiful Face there, didn’t you?”
Tommy looked at her with astonishment. “Why, how did you know? Then I must really, truly have seen the Face.”
Phœbe laid her cool hand on his hot forehead and brushed his hair back. Then she took his hand and said softly:
“Come to my chestnut tree before the other children come back and you can tell me all about it. Or, if you don’t feel like talking, we will just rest under the tree awhile, and when the others come we will all go home together.”
Tommy grasped Phœbe’s hand tightly and walked along. Neither said anything until they had sat under the tree for some time. Tommy’s eyes still wore their far-away look. He laid his head on Phœbe’s lap, and the young girl stroked his yellow hair and waited until he should be ready to talk.
At last the little boy sat up and said:
“I saw a very queer thing while I was at Still Pool. I was just looking into the water and thinking how white the pebbles were, when all at once I couldn’t see the pebbles any more. The water looked all gray, and then, while I was looking and wondering, I saw a beautiful, beautiful face! I really did, Phœbe, honest and true!”
Phœbe looked at the earnest little boy. She answered nothing, but her face was transformed as she listened to his story. Her beautiful brown eyes grew more gentle looking and her face seemed to have a light shining behind it.
“Honest, Phœbe, I did see a beautiful, lovely face. A real face.”