The Vision's eyes opened wider.
"It must be nice to know so much!" said she, in reverent admiration.
Bennington flushed. As a de Laney, the girls he had known had always
taken him seriously. He disliked being made fun of.
"This is nonsense," he objected, with some impatience. "I must know
where it came from."
In the background of his consciousness still whirled the moil of his
wonder and bewilderment. He clung to the claim stake as a stable
object.
The Vision looked straight at him without winking, and those wonderful
eyes filled with tears. Yet underneath their mist seemed to sparkle
little points of light, as wavelets through a vapour which veils the
surface of the sea. Bennington became conscious-stricken because of the
tears, and still he owned an uneasy suspicion that they were not real.
"I'm so sorry!" she said contritely, after a moment; "I thought I was
helping you so much! I found that stake just streaking it over the top
of the hill. It had got loose and was running away." The mist had
cleared up very suddenly, and the light-tipped sparkles of fun were
chasing each other rapidly, as though impelled by a lively breeze.
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