Mrs. Davenant looked up—just as if she wanted to see what he expected of her to say, and seeing that he meant her to say “yes,” said it.
“Yes, I shall be very glad to have a young girl—a good young girl—as a companion, Stephen. My life has been very lonely since you have been away.”
“And I may be away so much. But, mother, you will not forget what I said during our drive? There are special reasons why the girl’s antecedents should not be spoken of. The friend who interested me in her wishes her to forget, if possible, everything concerning her early life.”
“I understand, Stephen.”
“And, by the way, do not allow any expression of astonishment to escape you if, when you see her, you feel astonished at her appearance or manner. Remember that she has spent all her life here, buried in the forest, her sole companions a woodsman and his wife.”
“Her mother and father?” said Mrs. Davenant.
“I said her mother and father, did I not? Just so—her mother and father. Well, we must not expect too much. And after all, it will be far more interesting for you to have a fresh and unsophisticated nature about you, although she may be rather rough and rustic——”
“I shall be quite content if she is a good girl.”
“Just so. Virtue is a precious gem though incased in a rough casket.”
Gideon Rolfe had returned, but not alone. Emerging from the deep shadow of the trees was what looked to their astonished and unprepared eyes a vision of some wood nymph.