One day not long after the Flamp's visit, Tilsa ran into old Alison's room to ask something, and was surprised and grieved to find her nurse rocking to and fro in her chair, with her face covered. Now and then between her fingers trickled the tears, and Alison sighed deeply.
'What is it?' Tilsa asked, kneeling beside her. 'Can I do anything, dear Alison?'
'Only stay here, dearie,' sobbed the old woman. 'I was remembering happier days. Stay here, Tilsa dear. All I want is sympathy.'
So Tilsa stayed, and Alison soon was herself again. 'Thank you, dearie,' she said as she wiped her eyes and jumped up ready to set to work again; 'you have done me a world of good. Always be sympathetic if you can. No one knows how grateful it is.'
It was nearly bed-time, and Tilsa went downstairs to say good-night to the Liglid. On the way her little white forehead was puckered into lines like a railway map.
She entered her grandfather's room softly. The old man was seated on one side of his desk; on the other was the Town Clerk of Ule. Between them was a large sheet of paper with these words at the top:
'A BILL FOR THE CIRCUMVENTION
OF THE FLAMP.'
They were too busy to notice Tilsa's entrance.
'We must hurry it through the House,' the Liglid was saying, 'or there won't be time. Rigmarola is a long way off.'
'How long will it take to march the troops here?' the Town Clerk asked.
'Fully six months,' said the Liglid, 'and then they must be drilled. They don't fight Flamps every day, and they may find it difficult to fix upon a mode of attack. What a pity it is,' he added, 'that Ule has no army.'
'It will be expensive,' said the Town Clerk.
'Money,' the Liglid remarked, 'is no object where the circumvention of the Flamp is concerned. The city has suffered long enough.'
'True,' said the Town Clerk.
Tilsa now ventured to interrupt. 'Grandpapa,' she said, 'I've come to say good-night.'
'Eh!' said the old man, now seeing her for the first time. 'Good-night? Oh yes! good-night, my dear'; and after his wont he kissed the air an inch from her cheek.
Tilsa did not at once run out of the room as she generally did, rather glad to have done with the ceremony; instead, she spoke again. 'Grandpapa, I think I know what the Flamp wants when he comes to the town.'
'Eh!' cried the Liglid, who was intent on his Bill again. 'Eh! I thought you'd gone to bed. You know what the Flamp comes for?' he continued.
'Yes,' said Tilsa, 'it's not to eat people at all, or to do any harm; it's for sympathy.'
'Rubbish!' said the Liglid. 'Nonsense—don't meddle with things you don't understand. Run off to bed at once.'
