tably."

"That sounds a good plan," she said, gravely. "Shall I climb through the
window--I can quite easily--or would you like me to go round by the
door?"

"The window will serve," said the old man.

And with one bound as light as a young kid, Halcyone was in the room.

There was a second armchair beyond the pile of books, and into that she
nestled, crossing her knees and clasping her hands round them. "Now we
can begin," she said.

"Tea or talk?" asked the old man.

"Why, talk, of course; there is no tea--"

"But if you rang that bell some might come."

Halcyone jumped up again and looked about for the bell. She was not
going to ask where it was--she disliked stupid people herself. The old
man watched her from under the penthouse of his eyebrows with a curious
smile.

The bell was hidden in the carving of the mantelpiece, but she found it
at last and gave it a lusty pull.

It seemed answered instantaneously by a strange-looking man,--a dark,
extremely thin person with black, dull eyes.

The old man spoke to him in an unknown language and he retired silently.

"Who was that?" asked Halcyone.

"That is my servant,--he will bring tea."

"He is not English?"

"No--does that matter?"

"Of course not--but what country does he come from?"

"You must ask him someday."

"I want to see countries," and she stretched out her slender arms, "I
want to fly away outside the park and see the world."

"You have time," said the old man.

"When I am big enough I shall run away--I get very tired of only the
Aunts La Sarthe. They never understand a word I say." "What do you say?"

"I want to say all sorts of things, but if it isn't what they have heard
a hundred times before, they look shocked and pained."

"You must come and say them to me then, perhaps I might understand, and
in any case I should not be shocked or pained."

"They remind me of the Three Gray Sisters, although there are only two
of them--one eye and one tooth between them."

"I see--there is something we can talk about at all events," said the
old man. "The Three Gray Sisters are friends of yours--are they?"

"Not friends!" Haley one exclaimed emphatically. "I can't bear them,
silly old things nodding there, with their ridiculous answers to
Perseus, saying old things were better than new--and their day better
than his--I should have thrown their eye into the sea if I had been he.
Do all old people do that?--pretend their time was the best?-