The children dared not say any more, and, indeed, just then it would have been no use.
'She would not have believed anything we said about it,' said Maia as they went upstairs to their own rooms. 'But it isn't nice not to be allowed to tell anything like that. Father always believes us.'
'Yes,' said Rollo thoughtfully. 'I don't quite understand why Lady Venelda should have taken us up so about it. I don't much like going back to the cottage without leave—at least without telling her about it, and yet we must go. It would be such a shame not to pay for the milk.'
'Yes,' said Maia, 'and they might think there had been robbers there while they were out. Oh, we must go back!'
But their perplexities were not decreased by what Nanni had to say to them.
'Oh, Master Rollo and Miss Maia!' she exclaimed, 'we should be very thankful that no harm came to you this afternoon. I've been speaking to them in the kitchen about where you were, and, oh, but it must be an uncanny place! No one knows who lives there, though 'tis said about 'tis a witch. And the queer thing is, that 'tis but very few that have ever seen the cottage at all. Some have seen it and told the others about it, and when they've gone to look, no cottage could they find. Lady Venelda's own maid is one of those who was determined to find it, but she never could. And my Lady herself was so put out about it that she set off to look for it one day,—for no one has a right to live in the woods just hereabout without her leave,—and she meant to turn the people, whoever they were, about their business. But 'twas all for no use. She sought far and wide; ne'er a cottage could she find, and she wandered about the woods near a whole day for no use. Since then she is that touchy about it that, if any one dares but to mention a cottage hereabouts, save those in the village, it quite upsets her.'
Rollo and Maia looked at each other, but something made them feel it was better to say little before Nanni.
'So I do beg you never to speak about the cottage to my Lady,' Nanni wound up.
'We don't want to speak about it to her,' said Rollo drily.
'And you won't want to go there again, I do hope,' the maid persisted. 'Whatever would I do if the witch got hold of you and turned you perhaps into blue birds or green frogs, or something dreadful? Whatever would your dear papa say to me? Oh, Miss Maia, do tell Master Rollo never to go there again.'