y story-papers. It must be
nice to live in them; it must be nice to be a denizen of Paradise.

'I'm in earnest, Emma.'

His voice caused her to gaze at him again.

'Bring a chair,' he said, 'and I'll tell you something that'll--keep you
awake.'

The insensible fellow! Her sweet, pale, wondering face was so close to
his, the warmth of her drooping frame was against his heart--and he
bade her sit apart to listen.

She placed herself as he desired, sitting with her hands together in her
lap, her countenance troubled a little, wishing to smile, yet not quite
venturing. And he told his story, told it in all details, with figures
that filled the mouth, that rolled forth like gold upon the bank-scales.

'This is mine,' he said, 'mine and yours.'

Have you seen a child listening to a long fairy tale, every page a
new adventure of wizardry, a story of elf, or mermaid, or gnome, of
treasures underground guarded by enchanted monsters, of bells heard
silverly in the depth of old forests, of castles against the sunset,
of lakes beneath the quiet moon? Know you how light gathers in the eyes
dreaming on vision after vision, ever more intensely realised, yet ever
of an unknown world? How, when at length the reader's voice is silent,
the eyes still see, the ears still hear, until a movement breaks the
spell, and with a deep, involuntary sigh the little one gazes here and
there, wondering?

So Emma listened, and so she came back to consciousness, looking about
the room, incredulous. Had she been overcome with weariness? Had she
slept and dreamt?

One of the children stirred and uttered a little wailing sound. She
stepped lightly to the bedside, bent for a moment, saw that all was
well again, and came back on tip-toe. The simple duty had quieted her
throbbing heart. She seated herself as before.

'What about the country house now?' said Richard.

'I don't know what to say. It's more than I can take into my head.'

'You're not going to say, like mother did, that it was the worst piece
of news she'd ever heard?'

'Your mother said that?'

Emma was startled. Had her thought passed lightly over some danger? She
examined her mind rapidly.

'I suppose she said it,' Richard explained, 'just because she didn't
know what else to say, that's about the truth. But there certainly is
one thing I'm a little anxious about, myself. I don't care for either
Alice or 'Arry to know the details of this windfall. They won't come in
for thei