was such a strong one on his part, and partly because there was such a yielding to it on hers.
The cherub, whose hair would have done for itself under the influence of this amazing spectacle, what Bella had just now done for it, staggered back into the window-seat from which he had risen, and surveyed the pair with his eyes dilated to their utmost.
“But we must think of dear Pa,” said Bella; “I haven’t told dear Pa; let us speak to Pa.” Upon which they turned to do so.
“I wish first, my dear,” remarked the cherub faintly, “that you’d have the kindness to sprinkle me with a little milk, for I feel as if I was—Going.”
In fact, the good little fellow had become alarmingly limp, and his senses seemed to be rapidly escaping, from the knees upward. Bella sprinkled him with kisses instead of milk, but gave him a little of that article to drink; and he gradually revived under her caressing care.