She led the way behind the tree, pushed the bushes aside and disclosed the seat.
She no longer felt that she was betraying a secret. Her experience at Grangersons had in some way made Vernons seem to her now really her home, and Richard Pinckney closer to her in relationship.
“Why, how did you know that was there?” said Richard. “I’ve never seen it.”
“Juliet Mascarene used to sit there with—with some one she was in love with. I found some of her old letters and they told about it—see, it’s a little arbour, used to be, though it’s all so overgrown now.”
“Juliet,” said he. “That was the girl who died. I have heard Aunt Maria talk about her and she keeps her room just as it used to be. Who was the somebody?”
“It was a Mr. Rupert Pinckney.”
“I knew there was a love story of some sort connected with her, but I never worried about the details. So they used to come and sit here.”
“Yes, he’d come to the gate at night and she’d meet him. Her people did not want her to marry him and so they had to meet in secret.”
“That was a long time ago.”
“Before you were born,” said Phyl.