Before I had time to answer, she was off again.
“Don’t you see auntie down there?”
“No, I don’t see her. I have been trying very hard, but I can’t.”
“Well, I daresay you can’t. Nobody, I think, has got eyes but myself. Do you see a big stone by the edge of the pond, with another stone on the top of it, like a big potato with a little one grown out of it?”
“No.”
“Well, auntie is under the trees on the opposite side from that stone. Do you see her yet?”
“No.”
“Then you must come down with me, and I will introduce you to her. She’s much the prettiest thing here. Much prettier than grannie.”
Here she looked over her shoulder at grannie, who, instead of being angry, as, from what I had seen on our former interview, I feared she would be, only said, without even looking up from the little blue-boarded book she was again reading—
“You are a saucy child.”