"Tell me," she spoke suddenly, "about your mother. I hope she will not worry too much. If ever I knew my sweet mother I should be willing to live in a cave all my life."
Cora had always heard girls speak this way of lost mothers. Yes, it was sweet to have one—to know one.
"My mother is a brave woman," said Cora. "She will never give up until all hope is gone."
"I know she is brave, for you must be like her. And your brother?"
"He will miss me," answered Cora brokenly, for she could not even speak of Jack without being affected.
The great, dark eyes of the gypsy looked out into the forest. Cora wondered of what she could be thinking.
"Jack," she repeated, "Jack what?"
"Jack Kimball," replied Cora, still wondering.
"That sounds like a brave name," remarked the queen. "I am getting spoiled, I'm afraid. I cannot help being interested in the outside world."
"Why should you not be?" asked Cora.