On this particular day she was not doomed to disappointment. The old servant was soon seen approaching. Rachel ran to her, clasped her hands round her arm, and raising her lips to her face, kissed her affectionately.
“Ah, you are a good Nancy to-day!” she exclaimed. “I was here on Saturday and here on Wednesday, and you never came. It was very unkind of you. I got so tired of standing by the oak tree and waiting. Well, Nancy, is the lady quite well to-day?”
“Middling, dearie; middling she ever is and will be until she claims her own again.”
“Oh, you mysterious old woman! You are trying to make me desperately curious, but I don’t believe there is anything in your talk. You worry me to keep a tremendous secret, and there’s nothing in it, after all. Oh, of course I’m keeping your secret; you needn’t pretend to be so frightened. And when am I to see the lady of the forest, Nancy?”
“Now, my dear, haven’t I told you until I’m tired? You’re to see her come your thirteenth birthday, love. The day you are thirteen you’ll see her, and not an hour sooner.”
Rachel stamped her foot angrily.
“I shan’t have a birthday till the beginning of May!” she said. “It’s a shame; it’s a perfect, perfect shame!”
Old Nancy pushed back a rebellious curl from the child’s bright head.
“Don’t you fret, my pretty,” she said tenderly. “The lady wants to see you a deal—a sight more than you want to see her. The lady has passed through many troubles, and not the least is the waiting to see your pretty face.”
Rachel began eagerly to unbutton her habit, and taking from a little pocket just inside its lining a tiny bag, she pulled out a small ring and thrust it into Nancy’s hand.