Aunt Griselda was seen approaching down a long straight avenue overshadowed by forest trees of beech and oak; she held her parasol well up, and her face was further protected from any passing gleams of sunlight by a large poke-bonnet. She was a slender old lady, with a graceful and dignified appearance. Aunt Griselda would have compelled respect from any one, and as she approached the two girls they both started to their feet and ran to meet her.
“Your music-master has been waiting for you for half an hour, Rachel. Kitty, I am going into the forest; you can come with me if you choose.”
Rachel did not attempt to offer any excuse for being late; with an expressive glance at Kitty she walked off soberly to the house, and the younger girl, picking up her hat, followed Aunt Griselda, sighing slightly as she did so.
Kitty was an affectionate child, the kind of child who likes everybody, and she would have tolerated Aunt Griselda—who was not particularly affectionate nor particularly sympathetic—if she had not disturbed her just at the moment when she was listening with breathless interest to a wonderful romance.
Kitty adored fairy tales, and Rachel had a great gift in that direction. She was very fond of prefacing her stories with some such words as the following:
“Understand now, Kitty, that this fairy story is absolutely true; the fairy was seen by our great-great-grandmother;” or “Our great-uncle Jonas declares that he saw that brownie himself as he was going through the forest in the dusk;” then Kitty’s pretty blue eyes would open wide and she would lose herself in an enchanted world. It was very trying to be brought back to the ordinary everyday earth by Aunt Griselda, and on the present occasion the little girl felt unusually annoyed.
Miss Griselda Lovel, or “Aunt Grizel” as her nieces called her, was a taciturn old lady, and by no means remarked Kitty’s silence. There were many little paths through the forest, and the two soon found themselves in comparative night. Miss Lovel walked quickly, and Kitty almost panted as she kept up with her. Her head was so full of Rachel’s fairy tale that at last some unexpected words burst from her lips. They were passing under a splendid forest tree, when Kitty suddenly clutched Aunt Grizel’s thin hand.
“Aunt Grizel—is it—is it about here that the lady lives?”
“What lady, child?” asked Miss Lovel.
“Oh, you know—the lady of the forest.”