"From Virginia. Have you ever been there?"
Miss French shook her head.
Claudia sat up. In her eyes no longer laughter, and incredulity that was genuine. "You mean you never have been to Virginia?"
"Never."
Elbows on the table and chin in the palms of her hands, Claudia
looked at Miss French as intently as Miss French looked at Claudia.
"Then you've never heard, I suppose, of the Northern Neck, or
Westmoreland County, or Essex, or Lancaster, or King George, or—"
"Never. Quite English, aren't they? Is that where you live?"
"I live in Essex. We're on the Rappahannock. There isn't a railroad
in the county. We have to take the boat for Fredericksburg or
Norfolk to get anywhere, unless we cross the river into Westmoreland
County and drive over to the Potomac side and make the boat to
Washington. Have you ever been to Washington?"
"Of course. I've been pretty well over the world."
"And left out its best part!" Claudia laughed and got up to turn the logs which were smoking. "You mustn't die before seeing it. There isn't so much to see, perhaps, but a good deal to feel. Do you like fox-hunting?"
"Never tried it." Again Miss French looked at the girl now standing in front of her. She was certainly not a plate of fashion—that is, not a French plate—but she was graceful, and her clothes were really very good. Her unconsciousness of self was rather astounding in a country girl.