nswered, 'No, Mr. Giant, I can't come till you've opened the door.'
And then she heard him grumbling to himself, and in a minute she heard
a rattling noise, and she knew the door was opened, and then she came
down. She had settled with her grandfather that if she didn't come
straight back, he would send some of the people to watch for the door
being opened, so she knew it would be all right, for once the giant had
agreed to open it, he couldn't shut it again--that was settled somehow,
some magic way I suppose, the story didn't say how. So then Sunny,
came downstairs again, and the giant stroked her hair up and down
till his poor old hands were quite warm, and he grew quite pleased and
good-natured. But he wouldn't let Sunny go away, and she had to stay,
you see, because the top-door, the one like a gate, was still shut up.
And any way she didn't want to be unkind to the giant. She promised him
that she would come back to see him every day if he liked if only he
would let her go, but he wouldn't, so she had to stay. I don't know how
long she stayed. It was a long time, for the story said she grew thin
and white with being shut up in the giant's cave and having no running
about. It was worse than the forest. The only thing that kept her alive
was the sunshine she got every morning, for there was _always_ sunshine
at the top of the mountain, and then, too, the comfort of knowing that
the poor people were enjoying it too, for when she was up on the top she
could hear their voices down below, as they came to the door. Day by day
she heard their voices grow merrier and brighter, and after a while she
could even hear the little children laughing and shouting with glee.
And Sunny felt that she didn't mind for herself, she was _so_ glad to
think that she had done some good to her poor friends. But she got paler
and thinner and weaker--it was so very tiring to stand such a long time
every day while the giant stroked the sunshine out of her golden hair to
warm his withered old hands, and it was so terribly dark and dull and
cold in the gloomy cavern. She would hardly have known how the days
went or when was day and when was night, but for the giant sending her
upstairs every morning. But one morning came when she could not go; she
got up a few steps, and then her strength went away and she seemed to
get half asleep, and she said to herself that she was going to die, and
she did not know anything more. She seemed to be dreaming. She f