Are blushes among the fruits of the country of the magic
bean-stalk?
'_I_ am not dreaming,' said Helena, smiling. 'I should take more
for granted if I were. How do we come together--or so near
together--so very unexpectedly?'
Unexpectedly indeed, among the dingy gables and chimney-pots of P.
J. T.'s connection, and the flowers that had sprung from the salt
sea. But Rosa, waking, told in a hurry how they came to be
together, and all the why and wherefore of that matter.
'And Mr. Crisparkle is here,' said Rosa, in rapid conclusion; 'and,
could you believe it? long ago he saved his life!'
'I could believe any such thing of Mr. Crisparkle,' returned
Helena, with a mantling face.
(More blushes in the bean-stalk country!)
'Yes, but it wasn't Crisparkle,' said Rosa, quickly putting in the
correction.
'I don't understand, love.'
'It was very nice of Mr. Crisparkle to be saved,' said Rosa, 'and
he couldn't have shown his high opinion of Mr. Tartar more
expressively. But it was Mr. Tartar who saved him.'
Helena's dark eyes looked very earnestly at the bright face among
the leaves, and she asked, in a slower and more thoughtful tone:
'Is Mr. Tartar with you now, dear?'
'No; because he has given up his rooms to me--to us, I mean. It is
such a beautiful place!'
'Is it?'
'It is like the inside of the most exquisite ship that ever sailed.
It is like--it is like--'
'Like a dream?' suggested Helena.
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