“I am all attention,” she replied; “proceed with your story;—­but first, wait a moment.  I will get some of my work; and then I can listen to you without feeling that I am wasting precious time.”

“Otherwise you would feel,” I said, “that your time was wasted listening to me?”

“No,” she said, laughing, “but in listening to a fairy tale.”  She returned in a few moments, and we took seats, I covering my real feeling by an assumed gayety, and Estella listening attentively, with her eyes on her work.

“You must know,” I commenced, “that my tale is entitled: 

THE STORY OF PRINCESS CHARMING AND THE KNIGHT WEAKHART.

’Once upon a time’—­you know all fairy stories are dated from that eventful period of the world’s history—­there was a beautiful princess, who lived in a grand palace, and her name was Princess Charming; and she was every way worthy of her name; for she was as good as she was handsome.  But a dreadful dwarf, who had slain many people in that country, slew her father and mother, and robbed the poor Princess of her fine house, and carried her off and delivered her to an old fairy, called Cathel, a wicked and bad old sorceress and witch, who sat all day surrounded by black cats, weaving incantations and making charms, which she sold to all who would buy of her.  Now, among the customers of Cathel was a monstrous and bloody giant, whose castle was not far away.  He was called The Ogre Redgore.  He was a cannibal, and bought charms from Cathel, with which to entice young men, women and children into his dreadful den, which was surrounded with heaps of bones of those he had killed and devoured.  Now it chanced that when he came one day to buy his charms from Cathel, the old witch asked him if he did not desire to purchase a beautiful young girl.  He said he wanted one of that very kind for a banquet he was about to give to some of his fellow giants.  And thereupon the wicked old woman showed him the fair and lovely Princess Charming, sitting weeping, among the ashes, on the kitchen hearth.  He felt her flesh, to see if she was young and tender enough for the feast, and, being satisfied upon this important point, he and the old witch were not long in coming to terms as to the price to be paid for her.

“And so he started home, soon after, with poor Princess Charming under his arm; she, the while, filling the air with her piteous lamentations and appeals for help.

“And now it so chanced that a wandering knight, called Weakhart, from a far country, came riding along the road that very day, clad in steel armor, and with his lance in rest.  And when he heard the pitiful cries of Princess Charming, and beheld her beauty, he drove the spurs into his steed and dashed forward, and would have driven the lance clear through the giant’s body; but that worthy saw him coming, and, dropping the Princess and springing aside with great agility, he caught the lance and broke it in many pieces.  Then they drew their swords and