“Who are you, my dears?” said Miss Katharine when she could speak. Miss Katharine was quite trembling, and she could not help smiling at the lovely little pair. Squire Lovel and Miss Grizel were still frowning, but Miss Katharine’s voice was very gentle.
“Who are you, my dear little children?” she repeated, gaining courage and letting an affectionate inflection steal into her voice.
“I’m Kitty,” said the younger child, putting her finger to her lip and looking askance at the elder girl, “and she—she’s Rachel.”
“You had better let me tell it, Kitty,” interrupted Rachel. “Please, we are going through the house—we want to see everything. Kitty doesn’t want to as badly as me, but she always does what I tell her. We are going straight on into the next room, for we want to find grandfather. I’m Rachel Lovel and this is Kitty Lovel. Our papa used to live here when he was a little boy, and we want to find grandfather, please. Oh, what a cross old man that is sitting in the chair!”
While Rachel was making her innocent and confident speech, Miss Katharine’s face turned deadly pale; she was afraid even to glance at her father and sister. The poor lady felt nearly paralyzed, and was dimly wondering how she could get such audacious intruders out of the room.
Rachel having finished her speech remained silent for a quarter of a minute; then taking Kitty’s hand she said:
“Come along, Kit, we may find grandfather in the other room. We’ll go through the door at that end, and perhaps we’ll come to grandfather at last.”
Kitty heaved a little sigh of relief, and the two were preparing to scamper past the deep embrasure of the mullioned window, when a stern voice startled the little adventurers, and arresting them in their flight, caused them to wheel swiftly round.
“Come here,” said Squire Lovel.
He had never spoken more sternly; but the mites had not a bit of fear. They marched up to him boldly, and Kitty laid her dimpled baby finger, with a look of inquiry, on his swollen old hand: