"I suppose it strikes you as very uninviting, but I have got so used to it that I hardly notice its deformities."
"Well it is time that someone should come and spy out the land," said Gwen. "I am sure that Mother has no idea of your surroundings."
Rachel laughed.
"Well don't you go and make the worst of them to her," she said. "I have purposely not enlarged on the subject, as I did not wish to worry her. Besides, she would imagine that I was not happy, which would be very far from the truth. I would far rather live in an ugly dirty town with Luke than in the most beautiful country in the world without him. When you are a little older, Gwen, you will understand that."
"No I shan't. No man in the world would make up to me for the country. I should simply die if I had to live here," she added, looking round the tiny room. "In fact I can't imagine a really unselfish man asking such a sacrifice from the girl he loves best in all the world."
Rachel laughed merrily. Gwen had got on to her favourite theme, the selfishness of men. She was always harping on that subject, Rachel remembered, at Heathland.
"Well, let us leave that and tell me of home," she said, as she was hungering for news. Then she suddenly drew Gwen's chair closer to her.
"You dear little thing," she said, smoothing her hair tenderly. "How glad I am to have you. I'm afraid, however, that you have come because you have been troublesome at home. Is that so?"
"I've come to spy out the land," answered Gwen with a mischievous smile; "and it's high time."
"Don't be silly, tell me about Mother and Sybil."