“How you go on about Winfried—Winfried!” she said mockingly. “I think it’s a very good thing Bertrand is coming to put him down a bit—a common fisher-boy! I wonder at cousin Hortensia. I’m sure if father knew he wouldn’t be at all pleased, but I’m not going to tell him. I mean to have some fun with Master Winfried before I have done with him, and I expect Bertrand will help me.”
“Ruby!” exclaimed Mavis, looking startled, “you don’t mean that you are going to play him any tricks?” Ruby only laughed again, more mockingly than before.
“I’d like to lock him up in the haunted room in the west turret one night,” she said. “I do hope he’d get a good fright.”
Mavis seemed to have recovered from her alarm.
“I don’t believe he’d mind the least scrap,” she said; “that shows you don’t understand him one bit. He’d like it; besides, you say yourself you think he’s a fairy boy, so why should he be afraid of fairies?”
“Nobody’s afraid of fairies, you silly girl. But if cousin Hortensia saw anything in the turret—and I don’t believe she did,—it wasn’t a fairy, it was quite different—more a sort of witch, I suppose.”
“You’re always talking of witches and wizards,” retorted Mavis, who seemed to be picking up a spirit which rather astonished Ruby. “I like thinking of nicer things—angels and—oh Ruby!” she suddenly broke off, “do look here—oh, how lovely!” and stooping down she pointed to a thick cluster of turquoise blossoms, almost hidden in a corner beneath the shrubs. “Aren’t they darlings? Really it’s enough to make one believe in fairies or kind spirits of some kind—to find forget-me-nots like these in November!” and she looked up at her sister with delight dancing in her eyes.
Even Ruby looked surprised.
“They are beauties,” she said; “and I’m almost sure they weren’t there yesterday. Didn’t we come round by here, Mavis?”