Jinny's lap was one of
these. She had a face like an old peasant woman, with a curious snub
nose and irregular whiskers that betrayed recklessly the advance of
age. Her snores and gentle purring filled the room now. A hush came
over the whole party. At seven o'clock they must all troop over to the
Pension des Glycines for supper, but there was still an hour left. And
it was a magic hour. Sighs were audible here and there, as the
exhausted children settled deeper into their chairs.
A change came over the atmosphere. Would nothing exciting ever happen?
'The stars are out,' said Jimbo in his soft, gentle little voice,
turning his head towards the windows. The others looked too--all
except Mother, whose attitude suggested suspiciously that she slept,
and Riquette, who most certainly did sleep. Above the rampart of the
darkened Alps swung up the army of the stars. The brighter ones were
reflected in the lake. The sky was crowded. Tiny, golden pathways slid
down the purple walls of the night. 'Some one in heaven is letting
down the star-ladders...' he whispered.
Jimbo's sentence had marked the change of key. Enchantment was abroad
--the Saturday evening spell was in the room.
And suddenly a new enormous thing stirred in their father's heart.
Whence it came, or why, he knew not.
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