"Then you're a deceiver," she said severely, as she handed him a joint of beef tightly gummed on to a wooden platter.

"You're sure to arrive at anything if you keep on till you get it," he answered carelessly. "So it doesn't really matter if you take the first to the right and the second to the left, or the second to the right and the first to the left. You are bound to get there in time.... This beef is gummed so tightly to the dish that it is a job to get it off...."

In the meantime the Grocer and the Farthing Doll were wandering about trying to find the Well. They sought for a long time, but they could not see a sign of it.

"We'll never find it," she said in despair. "And I am growing so tired I am beginning to lose all my good looks. All the crimson is wearing off my cheeks."

"Come, come, my dear, we won't give up yet," he said. "Console yourself; I believe many others have been in the same plight before us."

"I don't mind if they have," she said, tired and impatient.

Now the Grocer was a man of quick intellect. His thoughts were not solely given to the selling of raisins, currants, flour, rice and other groceries. As the Farthing Doll spoke, a very clever idea came into his head.

"Wait!" he said thoughtfully. "Your last remark has given me a new idea.

You mentioned the word _mind_! Mind,--mind,--mind. Yes,--now why should we not give up seeking for truth in a Well, and try to find it in our minds?"

"Have we got them?" she asked doubtfully.

"I think so," he replied.

"Then where are they kept?"

He pondered.

"In our heads, I imagine," he said.

And tapping his forehead to help out his thought he remarked.

"Let us begin. Here is my first question: Do you approve of marriages with Grocers?"

"Before I answer," said the Farthing Doll cautiously, "I should like to hear if you approve of marriages with Farthing Dolls? Some people don't."

"Ladies first. It is your place to reply to me before I reply to you."

"I prefer the last word; you may have the first."

"It is all very well to expect me to answer you, but supposing _I_ said 'Yes' and _you_ said 'No,' fancy how my pride would suffer!"

"But supposing I said 'Yes' and you said 'No,' picture to yourself what my feelings would be. I should not recover from the blow."

"We have got ourselves into a difficult position," said the Grocer. "Let us start afresh. If I wrote you a letter, how would you answer it?"

"As I thought best," she said. "But tell me how would you write it?"

"As I thought fit," he replied. "What would your 'best' be?"

"That would depend on your 'fit'," she answered.

The Grocer sighed and knit his brows.

"It seems very difficult to come to an understanding with you," he said.

And then they were both silent for a long while. As a matter of fact, this was because they were both so depressed that they could think of nothing further to say.

The Farthing Doll was the first to break the silence.

"Perhaps," she said sadly, "we had better start looking for that Well again. The Policeman told us that if we kept on we should come to it."

"I am not sure that I trust the Policeman," he answered. "It struck me that he wished, un.o.bserved, to enjoy some food from the dolls' house kitchen. He wanted to get rid of us."

"What is to be done then?" she asked.

The Grocer thought for a long while. Then he spoke again.

"I have another idea," he remarked. "Let us look for Truth not in the Well, nor in our Minds, but in our Hearts. Do you agree?"

"Yes, I do," she said. "But how shall we set about it?"

"Let our Hearts speak," he replied.

After this they were silent for a moment or two. Then the Grocer and the Farthing Doll clasped each other's hands and spoke at the same moment.

"My Heart's Dearest, I love you," said he.

"You are my Best Beloved," said she.

So the matter ended happily, to their own joy and to the joy of the whole toy-shop.

And these two lovers found Truth at last: not in the bottom of a Well, but in the depths of their own Hearts.

And they married and were happy ever after.

"That was a nice ending," remarked the little girl. "I like it."

"Yes; very satisfactory, wasn't it?" said the little lady.

"How will the next story end, happily or sadly?"

"I haven't thought of it yet. You shall know to-morrow."

"I think I must go now," said the little girl. "I promised my little cousin to have a game of nine-pins with her before bed-time."

"Wait," said the Marionette. "I have something to tell you. I think to-morrow evening will be the last time I shall be able to speak with you. My power of talking to a Mortal is going; it will not last after our next meeting."

"Oh, I _am_ sorry!" exclaimed the little girl. "I do not leave till two days after to-morrow, and I thought that you would be able to go on telling me stories up to the very last evening."

The little Marionette shook her head.