'We—who?'
'The English, I mean.'
'They must be like the Arab who had never seen the world, and thought it must be all his father's tent,' said Finella laughing; 'the insular, untravelled English, I mean.'
'Such kindness is delightful to a lonely creature like me. I have fortunately only myself to work for, however.'
'And no one else to think of?'
'Oh—yes—yes,' said the girl sadly and passionately; 'but he is far, far away, and every day seems to make the void in my heart deeper, the ache keener, the silence more hard to bear.'
'Our emotions seem somehow the same,' said Finella, after a pause. Then thinking that she had perhaps admitted too much, or laid a secret uselessly bare, Dulcie blushed, and thought to change the subject by saying reflectively, 'How many great and pleasant things one might do if one had the chance of doing so; but such chances never come in my way, for every change with me has been for the worse.'
'Not, I hope, in coming to Craigengowan?'
'Oh no; they are painful matters I refer to. First, I lost my dear papa, and was thereby cast on the world penniless. Since then I have lost one who loved me quite as well as papa did.'
'Another?' said Finella inquiringly.