nonsense, and we'd better finish our strawberries, anyhow. And then I
heard that you wondered why I didn't come, and that you wanted me, and
I kissed Auntie, and just flew. You heard how fast I was coming, when
you did hear me; didn't you, Rosin dear?"

"I heard," said the old man, smoothing her curls back. "I knew you'd
come, you see, jewel, soon as you could get here. And how are the good
ladies, hey; and how are you yourself?--though I can tell that by
looking at you, sure enough."

"Do I look well?" asked the child, with much interest. "Is my hair
very nice and curly, Rosin, and do my eyes still look as if they were
real eyes?" She looked up so brightly that any stranger would have
been startled into thinking that she could really see.

"Bright as dollars, they are," assented the old man. "Dollars? no,
that's no name for it. The stars are nearest it, Melody. And your
hair--"

"My hair is like sweet Alice's," said the child, confidently,--"sweet
Alice, whose hair was so brown. I promised Auntie Joy we would sing
that for her, the very next time you came, but I never thought you
would be here to-day, Rosin.

'Where have you been, my long, long love, this seven long years and
more?'

That's a ballad, Rosin; Doctor taught it to me. It is a beauty, and
you must make me a tune for it. But where _have_ you been?"