He looked down at her, his blue eyes full of tenderness.  “I’ve often wanted you, Tessa,” he said.

“Have you?” she beamed upon him, rubbing her flushed cheek against his shoulder.  “I’m sure you can have me if you like,” she said.

He pressed her to him.  “I don’t think your mother would agree to that, you know.”

Tessa’s red lips pouted disgust.  “Oh, she wouldn’t care!  She never cares what I do.  She likes it much best when I’m not there.”

Bernard’s brows were slightly drawn.  His arm held the little slim body very closely to him.

“You and I would be so happy,” insinuated Tessa, as he did not speak.  “I’d do as you told me always.  And I’d never, never be rude to you.”

He bent and kissed her.  “I know that, my darling.”

“And when you got old, dear Uncle St. Bernard,—­really old, I mean—­I’d take such care of you,” she proceeded.  “I’d be—­more—­than a daughter to you.”

“Ah!” he said.  “I should like that, my princess of the bluebell eyes.”

“You would?” she looked at him eagerly.  “Then don’t you think you might tell Mother you’ll have me?  I know she wouldn’t mind.”

He smiled at her impetuosity.  “We must be patient, my princess,” he said.  “These things can’t be done offhand, if at all.”

She slid her arm round his neck and hugged him.  “But there is the weeniest, teeniest chance, isn’t there?  ’Cos you do think you’d like to have me if I was good, and I’d—­love—­to belong to you.  Is there just the wee-est little chance, Uncle St. Bernard?  Would it be any good praying for it?”

He took her little hand into his warm kind grasp, for she was quivering all over with excitement.

“Yes, pray, little one!” he said.  “You may not get exactly what you want.  But there will be an answer if you keep on.  Be sure of that!”

Tessa nodded comprehension.  “All right.  I will.  And you will too, won’t you?  It’ll be fun both praying for the same thing, won’t it?  Oh, my wine!  I nearly spilt it.”

“Better drink it and make it safe!” he said with a twinkle.  “I’m going to drink mine, and then we’ll go on to the verandah and wait for something to happen.”

“Is something going to happen?” asked Tessa, with a shiver of delighted anticipation.

He laughed.  “Perhaps,—­if we live long enough.”

Tessa drank her wine almost casually.  “Come on!” she said.  “Let’s go!”

But ere they reached the French window that led on to the verandah, a sudden loud report followed by a succession of minor ones coming from the compound told them that the happenings had already begun.  Tessa gave one great jump, and then literally danced with delight.

“Fireworks!” she cried.  “Fireworks!  That’s Tommy!  I know it is.  Do let’s go and look!” They went, and hung over the verandah-rail to watch a masked figure attired in an old pyjama suit of vivid green and white whirling a magnificent wheel of fire that scattered glowing sparks in all directions.