"Rover; that was what he was called," she replied. "His little mistress loved him dearly," she continued.
"Did he belong to a _girl_?" Chris inquired, with some contempt on the substantive.
"Yes; and they always used to go out for pleasant walks together," she went on. "But never near the river, for she had said many a time, 'Don't go near the river, my darling, for it is not safe; not for a little girl like you'."
"Who said that?" he asked, speaking with some impatience. "The little girl--or what?"
"The little girl's mother," replied Granny, a trifle drowsily.
"You're going to sleep again!" Chris exclaimed reproachfully. "Oh, Granny, how can you tell me a story when you're asleep?"
"Asleep! Oh no, my darling," she said opening her eyes. "Well, one day, I am sorry, very sorry to say, Eliza--"
"Was that the little girl's name?" inquired Chris.
"Yes," she answered. "Didn't I tell you her name was Eliza? Dear, dear, how forgetful of me! As I was saying, Eliza thought, in spite of her father's and mother's command, she would go to the river, for she wished to pick some of the water-lilies which grew there in such profusion."
"How naughty of Eliza!" exclaimed Chris, with virtuous indignation.
"Yes, very naughty; very naughty indeed," agreed Granny, her voice again becoming sleepy. "It was sadly disobedient."
There was another pause, during which Chris listened expectantly, and the old lady once more closed her eyes.
"Oh, Granny! do go on," said the anxious little listener fervently.
"She picked several which grew near the river's brink," the old lady continued with an effort, "and at first all went well. But at last she saw a beautiful--a remarkably beautiful one that grew just out of her reach. It was a most dangerous thing to attempt to pick it, but she did not think of that, for she was very, very thoughtless as well as disobedient. Bending forward, heedless of her father's warning call, and her poor dear mother's sorrowful cry, she lost her balance, and--fell--right--into--the--river."
The last few words were uttered in a whisper, Granny's sleepiness having once more overtaken her, bravely as she struggled against it.
"How drefful!" said Chris, with wide-open eyes. "Was poor Eliza drownded? Oh, I hope she wasn't! Did she get out? Oh, say yes, Granny! And where did her father and mother call to her from? Right from the house? 'Cause I thought you said she was alone."