paper, and on her knee a backless magazine.
For half a minute she looked in Van Landing's face. "Isn't it nice and
funny--your being here? I like you." Her voice was joyous. "If I tell
you something, you won't tell?" She leaned forward, hands on his
knees. "This afternoon before I went out I asked God please to let
something nice happen. There hasn't anything very nice happened for so
long, I was afraid He had forgot. What must I write, Mr. Van?"
Into Van Landing's face the color surged, then died away and left it
strangely white. The child's eyes were holding his, and he did not try
to avoid them. It didn't matter. The only thing that mattered was to
get Frances quickly.
"Tell her I must see her to-night, that I must come to her. Why can't
I go to her, Carmencita?"
"Because she doesn't want anybody to come to see her that she doesn't
tell to come. She told me so herself, and I wouldn't break her rules
for a gold ring with a ruby in it. I know. I'll tell her I'm bound to
show her something to-night or I won't sleep a wink. And you'll be
_It_! You can go in Father's room, and when she comes in you will come
out and say--What will you say, Mr. Van?"
"I don't know. Perhaps I sha'n't say anything. Sometimes one can't."
"I'll look in that book I read once and see what he said, if you want
me to. It was a beautiful book. It had an awful lot of love in it. I
know what I'm going to write."
For some moments she wrote laboriously on the pad, which wabbled
badly on her knees, then she folded the piece of paper and, getting
up, went toward the door. Van Landing followed her.
"The boy," he said. "Will you give him this and tell him if the note
is delivered to Miss Barbour personally there will be more when he
comes back?" He held out his hand.
As if not seeing aright, Carmencita looked closely at what was held
toward her, then up in Van Landing's face. "You must have plenty of
money, if you haven't any friends," she said, and in her voice was
faint suspicion. "Noodles can't have that. He'd never go anywhere for
me again if he got that much." Her hand waved his away. "When he comes
back, if you'll give him a quarter he'll stand on his head. It's hard
and hollow, and he makes right smart standing on it and wriggling his
feet." She shook her head. "It would ruin him to give him a dollar.
Please read to Father."
Her visitor's face flushed. Why couldn't he remember? "Very well," he
said; "manage it your way. Tell hi
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