THE LITTLE PICTURE GIRL
going so gaily for hers. And now Minna wondered that once more as she glanced at her favourite picture, upon which the moon was shining so brightly to-night, till, bathed in the bright light, it seemed to stand right out from the shadows of the room.
There was a creak, as though the old wardrobe wanted to stretch itself after standing still so long —a funny little way furniture has now and again. But Minna didn't think it was the wardrobe this time—she thought Harlequin had done it. For it seemed to her as though he had suddenly stretched forth his arm and struck out with his staff. No— he was just as usual, only somewhat darker, being in shadow ; and as usual just ready to do something, yet never doing it.
Rut surely with the favourite picture there was something different!—some change ! It was always morning there. And now—why, now it was night! The moon was lighting up the old moated house, and the stars were twinkling over its heavy, white-capped roof. Minna looked for the little girl in red—but there was no little girl in red on the bridge at all!
" Of course," reflected Minna, " she must be in bed behind one of those little dormer windows fast asleep—for it must be very late."
This seemed strange somehow, yet it was only