nk up. No plant so much as man needs the sun and the air.
I comprehend now why most of our best and wisest men have lived in
capitals; and therefore again I say, that one scholar in a family is
enough. Confiding in your sound heart and strong honor, I turn you
thus betimes on the world. Have I done wrong? Prove that I have not, my
child. Do you know what a very good man has said? Listen and follow my
precept, not example.

"The state of the world is such, and so much depends on action, that
everything seems to say aloud to every man, 'Do something--do it--do
it!'"

I was profoundly touched, and I rose refreshed and hopeful, when
suddenly the door opened, and who or what in the world should come
in--But certainly he, she, it, or they shall not come into this chapter!
On that point I am resolved. No, my dear young lady, I am extremely
flattered, I feel for your curiosity; but really not a peep,--not one!
And yet--Well, then, if you will have it, and look so coaxingly--Who
or what, I say, should come in abrupt, unexpected--taking away one's
breath, not giving one time to say, "By your leave, or with your leave,"
but making one's mouth stand open with surprise, and one's eyes fix in a
big round stupid stare--but--

PART VIII.

CHAPTER I.

There entered, in the front drawing-room of my father's house in Russell
Street, an Elf! clad in white,--small, delicate, with curls of jet
over her shoulders; with eyes so large and so lustrous that they shone
through the room as no eyes merely human could possibly shine. The Elf
approached, and stood facing us. The sight was so unexpected and the
apparition so strange that we remained for some moments in startled
silence. At length my father, as the bolder and wiser man of the two,
and the more fitted to deal with the eerie things of another world, had
the audacity to step close up to the little creature, and, bending down
to examine its face, said, "What do you want, my pretty child?"

Pretty child! Was it only a pretty child after all? Alas! it would be
well if all we mistake for fairies at the first glance could resolve
themselves only into pretty children.

"Come," answered the child, with a foreign accent, and taking my father
by the lappet of his coat, "come, poor papa is so ill! I am frightened!
come, and save him."

"Certainly," exclaimed my father, quickly. "Where's my hat, Sisty?
Certainly, my child; we will go and save papa."

"But who is papa?" asked P