"There were two men in the garden pruning the shrubs and turning up the ground," the little girl proceeded, "so I expect Mr. Bailey will soon be here himself; don't you think so?"
"Yes," Mrs. Mickle replied; "in fact, I know your father heard from him a few days ago, and he then wrote that he hoped shortly to be at Wreyford."
"I wonder if he is very rich," Dinah said meditatively; "Gilbert says Colonials generally are. Do you know, mother?"
"No, my dear; but I imagine he must be very well off. Your father says he means to spare no expense in doing up Haresdown House; and, as you know, he has subscribed largely to several Wreyford charities this Christmas."
"He will have a big house to live in!" Dinah exclaimed.
"I think his buying it was entirely a matter of sentiment; you see, it was his childhood's home, and it is curious how elderly people like to return to the scenes of their youth, even when—" Mrs. Mickle paused abruptly, and listened to the sound of voices on the staircase. "I believe Miss Goodwin is coming," she said, a slightly amused smile crossing her face.
The next moment the parlour-maid announced "Miss Goodwin!" and a queer-looking little person stepped into the room, and paused irresolutely, with her head on one side.
She was clad in an old-fashioned brown silk gown and a circular brown cloak, whilst a poke bonnet covered her head, the hair on which was as white as snow and arranged in little corkscrew curls. Her figure was slight, and as upright as a dart; her eyes singularly blue and clear, and so youthful in expression that they contrasted oddly with her wrinkled countenance, which was one network of fine lines. It was difficult to guess from her appearance what age she was, but she was known to be nearer ninety than eighty; she never thought of herself as old, though, and was so lively in her manner, and juvenile in her conversation at times, that she often proved a puzzle to new acquaintances.
"Do I intrude?" she asked in a high piping voice, as she stood just within the room, looking at the table laden with working materials. "If so, I will go, and call upon you at a more convenient season."
"We are very pleased to see you, dear Miss Goodwin," Mrs. Mickle said cordially, as she took her visitor's little hand, encased in a baggy, brown kid glove, and pressed it kindly. "Come near the fire, and warm yourself; I am sure you must be cold."