"And what do you think of the war, they say we shall perhaps be in?" asked Lillian. "Granny says it will never reach us."
"It will then: It is all in the prophecies as plain as day. You can read it for yourself, Miss Lillian."
Lillian looked a little startled at this and changed the subject. "My cousin has never been in England before this year," she said.
"She speaks English pretty good for a furriner," said the old lady.
Anita laughed. "Oh, but it is the language I have always spoken. Although I was born in Mexico I was brought up in the United States," she said.
"Ameriky? Ye've come a gurt ways, miss. And do you call yerself Spanish or American, or is it English ye'll be? My head is all queered with it."
"I would rather call myself American, although I have least claim to that," acknowledged Anita. "I love Spain, and I love England, too, but it is America which seems most my mother country, for it is there that I have been happiest and there I have suffered most."
"Ah, yes, ah, yes," sighed the old lady. "Joy and sorrow, joy and sorrow, the memories of them, and the old laughter and tears; they make a place the heart clings to. I know, I know."
"You have always lived in Sussex?" Anita asked.
"No, my dear. I was brought up here hard by, but when I married I lived just over the border in 'Ampshire, and so I can understand that. One can bide in this place or in that, but where joy or sorrow ha' struck hardest 'tis them ye remember and want to stick by."