Every evening after that during Lloyd's visit the fire burned on the hearth of the long drawing-room.

All the wax candles were lighted, and the vases were kept full of flowers, fresh from the conservatory.
She loved to steal into the room before her grandfather came down, and carry on imaginary conversations with the old portraits.
Tom's handsome, boyish face had the greatest attraction for her.
His eyes looked down so smilingly into hers that she felt he surely understood every word she said to him.

Once Walker overheard her saying, "Uncle Tom, I'm goin' to tell you a story 'bout Billy Goat Gruff." Peeping into the room, he saw the child looking earnestly up at the picture, with her hands clasped behind her, as she began to repeat her favourite story.

"It do beat all," he said to himself, "how one little chile like that can wake up a whole house.

She's the life of the place." The last evening of her visit, as the Colonel was coming down-stairs he heard the faint vibration of a harp-string.