by a gentle tug at his long beard, and whispered. Squire Eben laughed
and smoothed her hair, but looked at her doubtfully. "I don't know
about it, Pretty," he whispered back.

"Please, father," she whispered again, and rubbed her soft cheek
against his great arm, and he laughed again, and looked at her as a
man looks at the apple of his eye.

"Well," said he, "do as you like, Pretty." With that the little
Lucina sprang eagerly forward before Jerome, who, hardly certain
whether he were dismissed or not, yet eager to be gone, was edging
towards the outer door, and held out to him her little hand curved
into a sweet hollow like a cup of pearl, all full of silver coins.

Jerome looked at her, gave a quick, shamed glance at the little
outstretched hand, colored red, and began backing away.

But Lucina pressed forward, thrusting in his very face her little
precious cup of treasure. "Please take this, boy," said she, and her
voice rang soft and sweet as a silver flute. "It is money I've been
saving up to buy a parrot. But a parrot is a noisy bird, mother says,
and maybe I could not love it as well as I love my lamb, and so its
feelings would be hurt. I don't want a parrot, after all, and I want
you to take this and buy some shoes." So said little Lucina Merritt,
making her sweet assumption of selfishness to cover her
unselfishness, for the noisy parrot was the desire of her heart, and
to her father's eyes she bore the aspect of an angel, and he
swallowed a great sob of mingled admiration and awe and intensest
love. And indeed the child's face as she stood there had about it
something celestial, for every line and every curve therein were as