So he
helped her to the top of the mountain, an' then she thought at last she
could see the beautiful City of Perhaps. That's where you got to--don't
you 'member, Hermy dear?"
Now why should Hermione's shapely head have drooped and drooped until
at last her face was hidden on the pillow? And why should Geoffrey
Ravenslee reach to touch the child's hair with hand so light and tender?
"The beautiful City of Perhaps," said he gently, "why, Princess, where
did you learn about that?"
"From dear Princess Nobody, oh, Prince!"
"And who is she?"
"Why, she's Hermy, Prince--and I'm Princess Somebody. And oh, Hermy
dear, you do 'member where you left off now, don't you?"
"Yes, I remember; but I--don't feel like telling fairy stories now,
dear."
"Oh! are y' sick?" cried the child anxiously, touching Hermione's golden
hair with loving fingers, "is it a headache like my mumsey gets?"
"N-no, dear, only I--I don't feel like telling any more of our
story--to-night--somehow, dear."
"Princess," said Ravenslee, "do you know much about the wonderful City
of Perhaps?"
"Oh, yes--an' I dream about it sometimes, Prince--such beautiful dreams!"
"Why, of course," nodded Ravenslee, "because it is the most beautiful
City that ever happened, I guess!"
"Oh, it is!" cried the child, "shall I tell you?"
"Please do, Princess.
Pages:
161
162
163
164
165
166
167
168
169
170
171
172
173
174
175
176
177
178
179
180
181
182
183
184
185