"Ah, I was never there in my life; I have always lived at Wreyford. In London they tell me you might not know your next-door neighbours! I should not like that." And she shook her head decidedly.
"We did not know our next-door neighbours," Angel admitted with a smile.
"Really? How strange! I know every one in Wreyford, and every one knows me. Now, which of you is the elder?"
"I am," the little girl answered, thinking the old lady was very fond of asking questions, "although Gerald is so much taller than I am."
"Gerald, is he called? And you? What is your name?"
"Angelica."
"But we always call her Angel," Gerald explained; "Angelica, is such a mouthful."
"Angel is a very sweet name, to my mind," Miss Goodwin said gravely. "Are you on your way to the town?"
"Yes," Angel assented. She hesitated, and then said apologetically, "I hope you did not think us very rude for stopping, and looking in at the gate. We were admiring your pretty house, and beautiful garden; we never saw such lovely flowers growing before!"
"Come in, and I will give you some with great pleasure," Miss Goodwin said, with an inviting smile as she opened the gate for them to enter. "I did not think you rude at all. You are fond of flowers?"