"Come a little this way; there, you can just see the roof of his house, close by the church."
"I see; it is tant soit peu triste to have the church so near you."
"Do you think so? Ah, but you have not seen it; it is the prettiest church in the county; and the little burial-ground—so quiet, so shut in; I feel better every time I pass it. Some places breathe of religion."
"You are poetical, my dear little friend."
Evelyn, who had poetry in her nature, and therefore sometimes it broke out in her simple language, coloured and felt half-ashamed.
"It is a favourite walk with my mother," said she, apologetically; "she often spends hours there alone: and so, perhaps, I think it a prettier spot than others may. It does not seem to me to have anything of gloom in it; when I die, I should like to be buried there."
Caroline laughed slightly. "That is a strange wish; but perhaps you have been crossed in love?"
"I!—oh, you are laughing at me!"
"You do not remember Mr. Cameron, your real father, I suppose?"
"No; I believe he died before I was born."