So Fanny perched on the end of the steamer chair, and Mr. King, not
seeing any way out of it, went on in his recital of the whale story,
winding up with an account of some wonderful porpoises he had seen, and
a variety of other things, until suddenly he turned his head and keenly
regarded Fanny's mother.
"How intensely interesting!" she exclaimed, opening her eyes, and
trying not to yawn. "Do go on, and finish about that whale," feeling
that she must say something.
"Mamma!" exclaimed Fanny, trying to stop her.
"I ended up that whale some five minutes ago, Madam," said Mr. King. "I
think you must have been asleep."
"Oh, no, indeed, I have been charmed every moment," protested Mrs.
Vanderburgh sitting quite erect. "You surely have the gift of a
_raconteur_, Mr. King," she said, gracefully recovering herself.
"O dear me, here is that odious boy and that tiresome old man!" as Tom
Selwyn came up slowly, his Grandfather on his arm.
Mr. King put Phronsie gently off from his lap, still keeping her hand
in his. "Now, children, the story-telling is all done, the whales and
porpoises are all finished up--so run away." He touched his sea-cap to
Mrs. Vanderburgh and her daughter, then marched up to the old man and
Tom.
"I am tired of sitting still," he said. "May my little granddaughter
and I join you in a walk?"
Tom shot him a grateful look. Old Mr. Selwyn, who cared most of all for
Polly, mumbled out something, but did not seem especially happy.
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