'I didn't mean to be rude,' she said, 'only you see I can't help wondering.'
'We don't mind your asking anything you like,' Silva replied. 'But I don't think I can tell you all you want to know. You'll get to see for yourself. Waldo and I have lived here a long time, but not always!'
'But your godmother,' went on Maia; 'I do so want to know about her. Does she live here? Is it she that the people about call a witch?' Maia lowered her voice a little at the last word, and looked up at Rollo apprehensively. Would not he think speaking of witches still ruder than asking questions? But Silva did not seem to mind.
'I dare say they do,' she said quietly. 'They don't know her, you see. I don't think she would care if they did call her a witch. But now the coffee is ready,' for she had been going on with her preparations meanwhile, 'will you sit round the table?'
'We are not very hungry,' said Rollo, 'for we had our dinner in the wood. But the coffee smells so good,' and he drew in his chair as he spoke. Maia, however, hesitated.
'Would it not be more polite, perhaps,' she said to Silva, 'to wait a little for your godmother? You said she would be coming soon.'
'She doesn't like us to wait for her,' said Silva. 'We always put her place ready, for sometimes she comes and sometimes she doesn't—we never know. But she says it is best just to go on regularly, and then we need not lose any time.'
'I don't think I should like that way,' said Maia. 'Would you, Rollo? If father was coming to see us, I would like to know it quite settledly ever so long before, and plan all about it.'
'But it isn't quite the same,' said Silva. 'Your father is far away. Our godmother is never very far away—it is just a nice feeling that she may come any time, like the sunshine or the wind.'
'Well, perhaps it is,' said Maia. 'I dare say I shall understand when I've seen her. How very good this coffee is, Silva, and the little cakes! Did your godmother teach you to make them so nice?'