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"
Have
games
till
it
’
s
cooler
.
I
brought
Authors
,
and
I
dare
say
Miss
Kate
knows
something
new
and
nice
.
Go
and
ask
her
.
She
’
s
company
,
and
you
ought
to
stay
with
her
more
.
"
"
Aren
’
t
you
company
too
?
I
thought
she
’
d
suit
Brooke
,
but
he
keeps
talking
to
Meg
,
and
Kate
just
stares
at
them
through
that
ridiculous
glass
of
hers
.
I
’
m
going
,
so
you
needn
’
t
try
to
preach
propriety
,
for
you
can
’
t
do
it
,
Jo
.
"
Miss
Kate
did
know
several
new
games
,
and
as
the
girls
would
not
,
and
the
boys
could
not
,
eat
any
more
,
they
all
adjourned
to
the
drawing
room
to
play
Rig
-
marole
.
"
One
person
begins
a
story
,
any
nonsense
you
like
,
and
tells
as
long
as
he
pleases
,
only
taking
care
to
stop
short
at
some
exciting
point
,
when
the
next
takes
it
up
and
does
the
same
.
It
’
s
very
funny
when
well
done
,
and
makes
a
perfect
jumble
of
tragical
comical
stuff
to
laugh
over
.
Please
start
it
,
Mr
.
Brooke
,
"
said
Kate
,
with
a
commanding
air
,
which
surprised
Meg
,
who
treated
the
tutor
with
as
much
respect
as
any
other
gentleman
.
Lying
on
the
grass
at
the
feet
of
the
two
young
ladies
,
Mr
.
Brooke
obediently
began
the
story
,
with
the
handsome
brown
eyes
steadily
fixed
upon
the
sunshiny
river
.
"
Once
on
a
time
,
a
knight
went
out
into
the
world
to
seek
his
fortune
,
for
he
had
nothing
but
his
sword
and
his
shield
.
He
traveled
a
long
while
,
nearly
eight
-
and
-
twenty
years
,
and
had
a
hard
time
of
it
,
till
he
came
to
the
palace
of
a
good
old
king
,
who
had
offered
a
reward
to
anyone
who
could
tame
and
train
a
fine
but
unbroken
colt
,
of
which
he
was
very
fond
.
The
knight
agreed
to
try
,
and
got
on
slowly
but
surely
,
for
the
colt
was
a
gallant
fellow
,
and
soon
learned
to
love
his
new
master
,
though
he
was
freakish
and
wild
.
Every
day
,
when
he
gave
his
lessons
to
this
pet
of
the
king
’
s
,
the
knight
rode
him
through
the
city
,
and
as
he
rode
,
he
looked
everywhere
for
a
certain
beautiful
face
,
which
he
had
seen
many
times
in
his
dreams
,
but
never
found
.
One
day
,
as
he
went
prancing
down
a
quiet
street
,
he
saw
at
the
window
of
a
ruinous
castle
the
lovely
face
.
He
was
delighted
,
inquired
who
lived
in
this
old
castle
,
and
was
told
that
several
captive
princesses
were
kept
there
by
a
spell
,
and
spun
all
day
to
lay
up
money
to
buy
their
liberty
.
The
knight
wished
intensely
that
he
could
free
them
,
but
he
was
poor
and
could
only
go
by
each
day
,
watching
for
the
sweet
face
and
longing
to
see
it
out
in
the
sunshine
.
At
last
he
resolved
to
get
into
the
castle
and
ask
how
he
could
help
them
.
He
went
and
knocked
.
The
great
door
flew
open
,
and
he
beheld
.
.
.
"
"
A
ravishingly
lovely
lady
,
who
exclaimed
,
with
a
cry
of
rapture
,
‘
At
last
!
At
last
!
’
"
continued
Kate
,
who
had
read
French
novels
,
and
admired
the
style
.
"
’
Tis
she
!
’
cried
Count
Gustave
,
and
fell
at
her
feet
in
an
ecstasy
of
joy
.
‘
Oh
,
rise
!
’
she
said
,
extending
a
hand
of
marble
fairness
.
‘
Never
!
Till
you
tell
me
how
I
may
rescue
you
,
’
swore
the
knight
,
still
kneeling
.
‘
Alas
,
my
cruel
fate
condemns
me
to
remain
here
till
my
tyrant
is
destroyed
.
’
‘
Where
is
the
villain
?
’
‘
In
the
mauve
salon
.
Go
,
brave
heart
,
and
save
me
from
despair
.
’
‘
I
obey
,
and
return
victorious
or
dead
!
’
With
these
thrilling
words
he
rushed
away
,
and
flinging
open
the
door
of
the
mauve
salon
,
was
about
to
enter
,
when
he
received
.
.
.
"
"
A
stunning
blow
from
the
big
Greek
lexicon
,
which
an
old
fellow
in
a
black
gown
fired
at
him
,
"
said
Ned
.
"
Instantly
,
Sir
What
’
s
-
his
-
name
recovered
himself
,
pitched
the
tyrant
out
of
the
window
,
and
turned
to
join
the
lady
,
victorious
,
but
with
a
bump
on
his
brow
,
found
the
door
locked
,
tore
up
the
curtains
,
made
a
rope
ladder
,
got
halfway
down
when
the
ladder
broke
,
and
he
went
headfirst
into
the
moat
,
sixty
feet
below
.
Could
swim
like
a
duck
,
paddled
round
the
castle
till
he
came
to
a
little
door
guarded
by
two
stout
fellows
,
knocked
their
heads
together
till
they
cracked
like
a
couple
of
nuts
,
then
,
by
a
trifling
exertion
of
his
prodigious
strength
,
he
smashed
in
the
door
,
went
up
a
pair
of
stone
steps
covered
with
dust
a
foot
thick
,
toads
as
big
as
your
fist
,
and
spiders
that
would
frighten
you
into
hysterics
,
Miss
March
.
At
the
top
of
these
steps
he
came
plump
upon
a
sight
that
took
his
breath
away
and
chilled
his
blood
.
.
.
"
A
tall
figure
,
all
in
white
with
a
veil
over
its
face
and
a
lamp
in
its
wasted
hand
,
"
went
on
Meg
.
"
It
beckoned
,
gliding
noiselessly
before
him
down
a
corridor
as
dark
and
cold
as
any
tomb
.
Shadowy
effigies
in
armor
stood
on
either
side
,
a
dead
silence
reigned
,
the
lamp
burned
blue
,
and
the
ghostly
figure
ever
and
anon
turned
its
face
toward
him
,
showing
the
glitter
of
awful
eyes
through
its
white
veil
.
They
reached
a
curtained
door
,
behind
which
sounded
lovely
music
.
He
sprang
forward
to
enter
,
but
the
specter
plucked
him
back
,
and
waved
threateningly
before
him
a
.
.
.
"
