“Just so, my child; and therefore, in these matter-of-fact times, so deliciously absurd. Moreover, I hope that you will not be like her, either in running away from your father, or in any other way--except her kindness and faithfulness.” He was going to say, “in her early death;” but a sudden touch of our natural superstition stopped him. “Papa, how dare you speak as if any one ever, in all the world, could be fit to compare with you? But now you must tell me one little thing--why have you chosen this very day, which ought to be such a happy one, for telling me so sad a tale, that a little more would have made me cry?” “The reason, my Lallie, is simple enough. This happens to be the very day when the two hundred years are over; and the astrologer’s will, or whatever the document is, may now be opened.” “His will, papa! Did he leave a will? And none of us ever heard of it!” “My dear, your acquaintance with his character is, perhaps, not exhaustive. He may have left many wills without wishing to have them published; at any rate, you shall have the chance, before it grows dark, to see what there is.” “Me! or I--whichever is right?--me, or I, to do such a thing! Papa, when I was six years old I could stand on my head; but now I have lost the art, alas!” “Now, Alice, do try to be sensible, if you ever had such an opening. You know that I do not very often act rashly; but you will make me think I have done so now, unless you behave most steadily.” “Papa, I am steadiness itself; but you must make allowance for a little upset at the marvels heaped upon me.” “My dear child, there are no marvels; or, at any rate, none for you to know. All you have to do is to go, and to fetch a certain document. Whether you know any more about it, is a question for me to consider.” “Oh, papa--to raise me up so, and to cast me down like that! And I was giving you credit for having trusted me so entirely! And very likely you would not even have sent me for this document, if you had your own way about it.” “Alice,” Sir Roland answered, smiling at her knowledge of him, “you happen to be particularly right in that conjecture. I should never have thought of sending you to a lonely and forsaken place, if I were allowed to send any one else, or to go myself. And I have not been happy at thinking about it, ever since the morning.” “My father, do you think that I could help rejoicing in such an errand? It is the very thing to suit me. Where are the keys, papa? Do be quick.” “I have no intention, my dear child, of hurrying either you or myself. There is plenty of time to think of all things. The sun has not set, and that happens to be one of the little things we have to look to.” “Oh, how very delightful, papa! That makes it so much more beautiful. And it is the astrologer’s room, of course.” “My dear, it strikes me that you look rather pale, in the midst of all your transports. Now, don’t go if you are at all afraid.”