[p9]
THE HEIRESS OF WYVERN COURT.
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CHAPTER I.
IN THE RAILWAY CARRIAGE—NEW FRIENDS.
“Well, little friend, and where do you hail from?”
The speaker was a merry-faced, brown-eyed boy of eleven, with curly brown hair—just the school-boy all over.
He had leaped into a railway carriage with cricket-bat, fishing-rod, and a knowing-looking little hamper, which he deposited on the seat beside him; then away went the snorting steam horse, train, people, and all, and out came this abrupt question. “Little friend” was a mite of a girl of nine, dressed in a homely blue serge frock and jacket, with blue velvet hat to match: a shy little midge of a grey-eyed maiden, with sunny brown curls twining about her forehead [p10] and rippling down upon her shoulders, nestling in one corner of the carriage—the sole occupant thereof until this merry questioner came to keep her company.
“I don’t quite know what you mean,” was the little girl’s reply—a sweet, refined way of speaking had she, and her eyes sparkled with shy merriment, although there was a startled look in them too.
“Well, where do you come from, my dear mademoiselle?” and now the merry speaker made a courtly bow.
“From London—but I’m not French, you know,” was the retort, with the demurest of demure smiles.
“No—just so; and where are you going?” One could but answer him, his questions came with such winning grace of manner.