"I—I hardly know," was the doubtful response.
"It's a dear old place. I love it, and so does Doris. I expect you'll be a bit lonely there at first, though, until you get to know grandfather better. You are fond of animals, aren't you?"
"Oh, yes!"
"I thought you must be, because grandfather told us how Lion took a fancy to you at once, and animals never like those who are not fond of them. I have lots of pets—rabbits, guinea-pigs, and white mice. Doris doesn't care for pets, but I am sure you do."
Felicia soon grew at her ease with Molly, and forgot that her grandfather's eyes were upon her. Though she did not talk much herself, she evinced great interest in her cousin's remarks; and, being a regular little chatterbox, Molly gave her a great deal of information concerning herself and her family, so that she was quite sorry when her grandfather said she must return with him to the Priory, and declined to allow her to spend the remainder of the day at the Vicarage.
"You will have plenty of time with your cousins later on," Mr. Renford said to Felicia as they were going home; "and I promised Guy you should spend an hour or so with him this afternoon. Your uncle appears interested in you, and I am sure if your society gives him any pleasure I shall be very glad. Poor Guy! he misses his mother sadly."
"Oh, I know he must!" she cried earnestly, deepest sympathy in her tone. "I am so very sorry for him. It must be terrible to be always ill. Does he never leave the house?"
"Sometimes he may stroll out into the sunshine for a short while, but he never goes outside our own grounds. He has not been downstairs for weeks now. I wish I could rouse him. In his mother's lifetime he used to join us at meals, but now he takes them in his own sitting-room."
There was an expression of sadness and regret on her grandfather's countenance which appealed to the little girl's heart. She reflected that he, too, must have been very lonely since her grandmother's death, and she was sorry for him. Did she not herself know what it meant to lose one's best-beloved by death? She would have liked to have put her sympathy into words, but she was far too shy to make the attempt.
During the next few days she saw her uncle every afternoon. Sometimes he kept her with him for a long while; sometimes he merely had a few minutes' conversation with her. He appeared capricious, but so far she had seen no exhibition of the temper which Ann had mentioned.