I knowed you were a spirit when you
looked at me yesterday, if you _did_ have a red shawl on."
"How did you know that I was a spirit?" asked the lady softly. "Oh,
little Star, how did you know?"
"'Cause you looked like my poor mamma's picture," replied the child,
"that my poor papa had round his neck. Are you my mamma's spirit?"
The lady shook her head. "No, darling," she said, "I am no spirit.
But I have come to see you, little Star, and to tell you something.
Will you not let me come in, Sweetheart?"
Star blushed, and hung her head for a moment, remembering Captain
January's lessons on politeness and "quarter-deck manners." She
brought a chair at once, and in a more gracious tone said (mindful
of Willum Shakespeare's lords and ladies), "I pray you sit!"
The lady sat down, and taking the child's hand, drew her gently
towards her. "Were you playing fairy, dear?" she asked, smoothing
back the golden hair with loving touch.
Star nodded. "I was delicate Ariel," she said. "I was footing it
featly, you know, on these yellow sands. Sometimes I am Puck, and
sometimes Titania; but Daddy likes Ariel best, and so do I. Did you
ever play it?" she asked, looking up into the kindly face that bent
over her.
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