'Poor children,' she said, in the peculiar low voice she always used when speaking to herself, and apparently forgetting the presence of others, 'poor children, they too have suffered. They have no mother!' Then turning to Maia, who was still gently stroking her hand: 'I thank you, my child, for your innocent sympathy,' she said, in her usual tone. 'I rejoice to have you here. You will cheer my solitude, and at the same time learn no harm, I feel sure, from the associations of this ancient house.'
Maia did not quite understand her, but as the tone sounded kind, she ventured to repeat, as she kissed her cousin's hand for good-night, 'And you will let us ramble about the woods if we are very good, won't you? And sometimes we may have a whole holiday, mayn't we?'
Lady Venelda smiled.
'All will depend on yourselves, my child,' she said.
But Rollo and Maia went upstairs to bed very well satisfied with the look of things.
They meant to wake very early, and tried to coax Nanni to promise to go out with them in the morning before prayers, but Nanni was cautious, and would make no rash engagements.
'I am very tired, Miss Maia,' she said, 'and I am sure you must be if you would let yourself think so. I hope you will have a good long sleep.'
She was right. After all, the next morning Rollo and Maia had hardly time to finish their coffee and rolls before the great bell in the courtyard clanged for prayers, and they had to hurry to the chapel not to be too late. Prayers over, they were taken in hand by Mademoiselle Delphine, and then by the old chaplain, till, by twelve o'clock, when they were sent out for a little fresh air before dinner, they felt more sleepy and tired than the night before.
'I don't care to go to the woods now,' said Maia dolefully. 'I am so tired—ever so much more tired than with lessons at home.'
'So am I,' said Rollo. 'I don't know what is the matter with me,' and he seated himself disconsolately beside his sister on a bench overlooking the stiff Dutch garden at one side of the castle.