great length;
and when his memory began to give out, giving me a kick of the shin, he
says:

"Han't you got anything to say? For a dull companion there's nothing in
the world to equal your man of wit and understanding"; which, as far as
my observation goes, was a very true estimation on his part.

But, indeed (since I pretend to no great degree of wit or
understanding), I must say, as an excuse for my silence, that during his
discourse I had been greatly occupied in observing Moll, and trying to
discover what was passing in her mind. 'Twas clear this talk of Spain
animated her spirit beyond ordinary measure, so that at one moment I
conceived she did share her father's fond fancy that our lost happiness
might be regained by mere change of scene, and I confess I was persuaded
somewhat to this opinion by reflecting how much we owe to circumstances
for our varying moods, how dull, sunless days will cast a gloom upon our
spirits, and how a bright, breezy day will lift them up, etc. But I
presently perceived that the stream of her thoughts was divided; for
though she nodded or shook her head, as occasion required, the strained,
earnest expression in her tightened lips and knitted brows showed that
the stronger current of her ideas flowed in another and deeper channel.
Maybe she only desired her father to talk that she might be left the
freer to think.

"'Twas near about this time of the year that we started on our travels,"
said I, in response to Dawson's reminder.

"Aye, I recollect 'twas mighty cold when we set sail, and the fruit
trees were all bursting into bloom when we came into France. I would we
were there now; eh, Moll?"

"What, dear?" asks she, rousing herself at this direct question.

"I say, would you be back there now, child?"

"Oh, will you take me there if I would go?"

"With all my heart, dear Moll. Is there anything in the world I'd not do
to make you happy?"

She took his hand upon her knee, and caressing it, says:

"Let us go soon, father."

"What, will you be dancing of fandangos again?" asks he; and she nods
for reply, though I believe her thoughts had wandered again to some
other matter.

"I warrant I shall fall into the step again the moment I smell garlic;
but I'll rehearse it an hour to-morrow morning, that we may lose no
time. Will you have a short petticoat and a waist-cloth again, Moll?"

She, with her elbows on her knees now, and her chin in her hands,
looking into the fire, nodde