'Oh then,' said Rosamond eagerly, 'you know the cottage where Bob Crag lives and the queer old woman. I do so want to see her. Will you take me there some day?'
Her aunt hesitated.
'What have they been telling you about Bob and his grandmother?' she asked.
'Oh, only just about how queer they are, and that people aren't very kind to them, because they don't know where they come from and things like that, and I was wondering— I couldn't help wondering'—the little girl went on in a somewhat awe-struck tone of voice—'if perhaps the old woman is a sort of a witch. I've never seen a witch, but I've read about them in fairy stories.'
'And is that why you so much want to go to see old Mrs. Crag,' said her aunt, half laughing.
'I don't quite know,' said Rosamond. 'Yes, I think it is partly. It's a little frightening to think of, but frightening things are rather nice too sometimes—in a sort of fancying way, I mean. For there aren't really any witches now, are there, auntie?'
She was not quite sure of this all the same, for as she spoke, she crept a little closer to Mrs. Caryll. It was beginning to get dusk, and the part of the road along which they were then passing ran through a wood; at all times it was rather gloomy just here.
'Real witches,' repeated her aunt; 'of course not, though I daresay Pat could tell you stories by the dozen about them, and no doubt Bob's grandmother is a curious old body. Long ago I daresay she would have been called a witch. I don't think she is quite right in her head, and Bob is a wild, gipsy-like creature. I don't think their father and mother care for the boys to see much of him, though both he and his grandmother are devoted to them. Some day——' but before Mrs. Caryll had time to say more, the sound of some one whistling in a peculiar way, two or three notes almost like a bird call, made her stop short.
'Why, that must be your uncle,' she exclaimed, 'coming to meet us,' and she whipped up the pony to make him go faster.
They were not far from home by this time, and when Uncle Ted, for he it was, got into the pony-cart beside them, there was no more talk between Aunt Mattie and her little niece.