only
sees it," said Uncle Fact, popping up his bald head again as the song
ended.
"I thank you: that's a good little song for me. But, Lorelei, are you
sorry you came to be my friend?" cried Fancy; for, as she bent to lay
the crown on the other's head, she saw that she was looking wistfully
down into the water that kissed her feet.
"Not yet: while you love me, I am happy, and never regret that I ceased
to be a mermaid for your sake," answered Lorelei, laying her soft cheek
against her friend's.
"How happy I was the day my play-mermaid changed to a real one!" said
Fancy. "I often want to tell people all about that wonderful thing, and
let them know who you really are: then they'd love you as I do, instead
of calling you a little vagabond."
"Few would believe our story; and those that did would wonder at
me,--not love me as you do. They would put me in a cage, and make a show
of me; and I should be so miserable I should die. So don't tell who I
am, will you?" said Lorelei earnestly.
"Never," cried Fancy, clinging to her. "But, my deary, what will you do
when uncle sends you away from me, as he means to do as soon as we go
home? I can see you sometimes; but we cannot be always together, and
there is no ocean for you to enjoy in the city."
"I shall bear it, if I can, for your sake; if I cannot, I shall come
back here, and wait till you come again next year."
"No, no! I will not be parted from you; and, if uncle takes you away,
I'll come here, and be a mermaid with you," cried Fancy.
The little friends threw their arms about each other, and were so full
of their own feelings that they never saw Uncle Fact's tall shadow flit
across them, as he stole away over the soft sand. Poor old gentleman! he
was in a sad state of mind, and didn't know what to do; for in all his
long life he had never been so puzzled before.
"A mermaid indeed!" he muttered. "I always thought that child was a
fool, and now I'm sure of it. She thinks she is a mermaid, and has made
Fancy believe it. I've told my wife a dozen times that she let Fancy
read too many fairy tales and wonder-books. Her head is full of
nonsense, and she is just ready to believe any ridiculous story that is
told her. Now, what on earth shall I do? If I put Luly in an asylum,
Fancy will break her heart, and very likely they will both run away. If
I leave them together, Luly will soon make Fancy as crazy as she is
herself, and I shall be mortified by having a niec
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