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"Heigh-ho-hum!" said Miss Pross, cheerfully repressing a sigh as

she glanced at her darling's golden hair in the light of the

fire, "then we must have patience and wait: that's all. We must

hold up our heads and fight low, as my brother Solomon used to

say. Now, Mr. Cruncher!--Don't you move, Ladybird!"

They went out, leaving Lucie, and her husband, her father, and

the child, by a bright fire. Mr. Lorry was expected back

presently from the Banking House. Miss Pross had lighted the

lamp, but had put it aside in a corner, that they might enjoy the

fire-light undisturbed. Little Lucie sat by her grandfather with

her hands clasped through his arm: and he, in a tone not rising

much above a whisper, began to tell her a story of a great and

powerful Fairy who had opened a prison-wall and let out a captive

who had once done the Fairy a service. All was subdued and quiet,

and Lucie was more at ease than she had been.

"What is that?" she cried, all at once.