"But how do you get food here?" asked Patricia suddenly, when she saw that Mara did not speak; "are there any villages about?"
"Two on the moorlands, and one on the way to Hendle, where the railway stops."
"Ah, yes," Patricia nodded. "I remember Hendle, and how I drove here with the Squire down that winding road. But it was so dark that I could see nothing on the way, and since I have been in this place I have not explored the neighbourhood."
"We can do so whenever you like," said Mara quietly; "but it will be best to wait until Basil comes home next week. He loves this place, and knows every inch of the surrounding country."
"Doesn't Mr. Dane know it also?"
"Theodore? Oh, yes, in a way. But he is like my father, and is never so happy as when he is reading and writing. He does not go out much, and we only see him at luncheon and dinner. It is nearly luncheon now."
Patricia caught the girl's slim hand. "Let us go in now," she said. "I am hungry, Mara, but I don't believe you are. A fairy like you, lives on:--
"'apricocks and dewberries,
With purple grapes, green figs, and mulberries.'"
"Who said that?" asked Mara, smiling in her dreamy fashion.
"Titania said it, and Shakespeare put the words into her mouth. Mara, I must educate you in English literature. You knew nothing of Browning when I quoted him lately, and now I see that you have not read Shakespeare's plays. This is dreadful."