thoughts was divided; for though she nodded or shook her head, as occasion required, the strained, earnest expression in her tightened lips and knitted brows showed that the stronger current of her ideas flowed in another and deeper channel. Maybe she only desired her father to talk that she might be left the freer to think.
"'Twas near about this time of the year that we started on our travels," said I, in response to Dawson's reminder.
"Aye, I recollect 'twas mighty cold when we set sail, and the fruit trees were all bursting into bloom when we came into France. I would we were there now; eh, Moll?"
"What, dear?" asks she, rousing herself at this direct question.
"I say, would you be back there now, child?"
"Oh, will you take me there if I would go?"
"With all my heart, dear Moll. Is there anything in the world I'd not do to make you happy?"
She took his hand upon her knee, and caressing it, says:
"Let us go soon, father."
"What, will you be dancing of fandangos again?" asks he; and she nods for reply, though I believe her thoughts had wandered again to some other matter.
"I warrant I shall fall into the step again the moment I smell garlic; but I'll rehearse it an hour to-morrow morning, that we may lose no time. Will you have a short petticoat and a waist-cloth again, Moll?"
She, with her elbows on her knees now, and her chin in her hands, looking into the fire, nodded.
"And you, Kit," continues he, "you'll get a guitar and play tunes for us, as I take it you will keep us company still."
