122 Make- Believe

music. The Visitor did not appear (as
Doris remarked to him one afternoon) to
have much work upon his hands. He
was for ever coming to see her, and the
tales he told were past numbering. “I
believe,” said Doris, on the occasion men-
tioned, “I believe you do nothing but
walk about thinking and thinking what
story you can tell me next, and that when
you have found one you come straight
away to tell it.” As a matter of fact, she
was not far from the truth. But still the
flow of stories was not altogether unfailing,
and there were times when the Visitor had
none to tell. It was on such occasions that
he remembered her fondness for music, and
was grateful for its existence, After all,
her affliction was but for a moment, and,
in any case, it was no particular affair of
his. But he had brought away with him
from that holiday in the West so vivid a
memory of the child among her flowers
that he could not now get away from the
thought of her sitting in darkness, lonely.