"That's right," he said, "laugh at me. Regular old gander ain't I. Never mind: you come down and see if the two young tyrants don't soon take you about in chains." "Daisy chains?" I said, laughing. "Yes, if you like," he said; "but they are chains you can't break. Ah!" he continued, as he thoughtfully stirred the cup of tea I had had made for him, "it only seems but yesterday that I went home and said to Cobweb, `I've found the place, my dear.' "`You have papa?' she said. "`I have.' "`Not a dreadful detached villa or _cottage ornee_, papa?' "`Oh, no.' "`With admirably planned kitchen and flower gardens?' "`No,' said I, laughing. "`With an extensive view of the Surrey Hills?' "`Why, any one would think you were a house agent, Cobweb,' I said, smiling. "`No wonder, papa, when I've been reading so many advertisements. But do tell me; have you really found the place at last?' "`I have really, my dear--at least, I think so.' "`Is it a real, old-fashioned country house?' "`Yes.' "`Smothered in clematis and roses and honeysuckle?' "`Yes, and swarming with birds' nests and insects.' "`And with a regular great wilderness of a garden?' "`Yes.' "`In which you can lose yourself?' "`Yes, and in the wood too.' "`What! is there a wood?' "`Acres of it.' "`And plenty of fruit and flowers?' "`Plenty to make you ill and to litter the house.' "`And purply plums, and ruddy apples, and soft downy peaches, and great rich Morello cherries?' "`Yes, yes, yes, and cabbages, and turnips, and 'tatoes, and beans, and brockylo enough to supply a greengrocer's shop,' I cried testily. "`And it doesn't look new, and stiff, and bricky; and isn't overlooked by the neighbours, who hang out washing; and there are no organs, nor cabs, nor street-singers?' "`No, no, no, no, child. It's just what you asked me to get--old, and rugged, and picturesque, and inconvenient, and damp, and littered with leaves, and four miles from any railway-station; and now I hope you're happy.' "`Oh, I am, dear, dear, dear father!' she cried, seating herself on my knee, and nestling her head on my shoulder. "`There, hold up your head,' I said, `and look at me. Now tell me frankly, did you ever see such a weak, stupid old man in your life?' "`I like weak, stupid old men,' she said archly; and her eyes twinkled with merriment, and then softened with the tears that stole into them. "`Yes,' I said, `because you can tyrannise over them, and do what you please with them, and make them your slaves like you do me. A pretty rig I've been running this last two months to find a place you like-- just as if Bryanston Square wouldn't do. I tell you what, my lady, you'll have to take pains to make me comfortable down there, for I shall be as dull and as heavy as lead.' "`No, you will not, pa dear,' she said, laughing, and then laying her cheek to mine. `I am so glad. You've made me so happy, for I was very tired of London.'