An expression almost of sadness crossed her face.
"I am alone, you see," she said; "and I live up at the castle."
The explanation was a pathetic one, and I observed the girl with greater interest than ever.
"I should like to be friends with you," I declared.
"I do not often make friends of strangers," she said, with some return of her former lofty manner—"but, yes, I think I like you."
"Very well; there shall be a compact between us to like each other," I replied. "And the first fruits of our agreement shall be to arrange what day I may go with you to the castle and see your—relative."
Something in my speech amused her, and she laughed merrily.
"Poor old granny!" she said. "You will love her at first sight."
"The gift is evidently in the family," I answered, "of making people love them at first sight."