“Where do you come from?” said the girl.
“Out of the water,” said I. “Don’t start, I have been bathing; are you fond of the water?”
“No,” said the girl, heaving a sigh; “I am not fond of the water, that is, of the sea;” and here she sighed again.
“The sea is a wide gulf,” said I, “and frequently separates hearts.”
The girl sobbed.
“Why are you alone here?” said I.
“I take my turn with the rest,” said the girl, “to keep at home on Sunday.”
“And you are—” said I.
“The master’s niece!” said the girl. “How came you to know it? But why did you not go with the rest and with your friends?”
“Who are those you call my friends?” said I.