Hold me, Daddy--" and she crouched in
his arms.
"You mustn't be frightened of her, Wonder. She loves little girls. See
how she is smiling at you. She wants to be friends with you. She wants
you to kiss her, little Wonder."
"Oh, no! no!" almost screamed the little girl.
But suddenly a cruel whim to insist came over the father, and,
half-coaxingly and half-forcibly, he held her up to the image, stroking
its white cheek to reassure her.
"See, how kind she is, little Wonder! See how she smiles--how she loves
you. She loves little girls, and she never sees any up here in the
lonely wood. It will make her so happy. Kiss her, little Wonder!"
Reluctantly the child obeyed, and with a shudder she said:--
"Oh, how cold her lips are, Daddy!"
"But were they not sweet, little Wonder?"
"No, Daddy, they tasted of dust."
And as Antony had lifted her up, he had said in his heart: "Silencieux,
I bring you my little child."
CHAPTER XII
AUTUMN IN THE VALLEY
Autumn in the valley was autumn, melancholy and sinister, as you find
her only in such low-lying immemorial drifting places of leaves, and
oozy sinks of dank water.
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