Again her eyes were turned on the boy, who met them with a steady, earnest gaze, half tearful, half smiling.
The young widow gave a troubled assent, and turning slowly, appeared about to retrace her steps.
“Do not go yet!” pleaded Catharine, catching her breath, and for the first time realizing her position and the strangeness of her conduct. “The grounds are pleasant always at sunset, and so little disturbed, that you can find the charm of a wild wood almost in them. I should like to show you some of the finest views.”
The lady smiled, and bent her head in acceptance of this kind offer.
CHAPTER XLV.
THE STRANGE LADY AND HER CHILD.
Catharine reached out her hand. The little boy looked up with a rosy smile, and gave his.
“Do you like to hunt bird’s-nests, and wade through the wet grass for peppermint, darling?” she inquired, taking the child’s hand, while her own began to tremble at the touch.
“I don’t know about the other, but birds, yes, yes, I love birds; mamma has got, oh, so many, in a big cage at home,” answered the boy.
“He has not been much used to the country,” added the mother; “we only came to the Island last week, and our place is so new, that it scarcely can be called rural just now. These old trees and thickets make me almost dissatisfied with the barrenness of our home.”
“Then you live in the new house yonder? I am glad of it. We are close neighbors. I have looked at your pretty villa from the window yonder, for months, wondering who would live in it. You will remain there, and this little boy—oh, how glad I am that he will stay in the neighborhood.”