Oh, what a
droll little boy!"
The tall gentleman pulled at his moustache, and, taking Mrs. Carson's
hand in his, began to smooth my hair down with it till I heard her
whisper--
"Leave go my hand, cousin. Thomas is looking like--like the
thunderstorm."
Thomas was the name of Mr. Carson, her husband.
After that I hid myself as well as I could behind a chair, for I was
shy, and watched little Stella Carson, who was the squire's only child,
giving the children presents off the tree. She was dressed as Father
Christmas, with some soft white stuff round her lovely little face, and
she had large dark eyes, which I thought more beautiful than anything
I had ever seen. At last it came to my turn to receive a present--oddly
enough, considered in the light of future events, it was a large monkey.
Stella reached it down from one of the lower boughs of the tree and
handed it to me, saying--
"Dat is my Christmas present to you, little Allan Quatermain."
As she did so her sleeve, which was covered with cotton wool, spangled
over with something that shone, touched one of the tapers and caught
fire--how I do not know--and the flame ran up her arm towards her
throat.
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