She spoke almost in a whisper, but she was quite in earnest.
'Well,' said Aunt Anna, 'this country is on the borders of Fairyland, so who can say? When we were children—I and my brothers and sisters and the little barons and baronesses up at the Castle—when we all played together long ago, we used often to try to find the way there—and fairies, of course, are much cleverer than we are. I don't see why some of them may not stray into our world sometimes.'
'And pretend to be not fairies,' said Leonore eagerly. 'P'raps they go back to Fairyland every night, and are here every day; fairies don't need to go to sleep ever, do they?'
But Aunt Anna had not time to reply just then, for supper was on the table, and all her attention was given to seeing that the dishes were what they should be, and in helping her little guest to Leonore's liking.
When Fraulein joined them, however, the conversation took a more general turn.
'I was speaking just now to Leonore,' Aunt Anna began, 'of my childhood—when your dear father, Elsie, and the others, and I used to play with the castle children. And that reminds me that I have a piece of news for you—things repeat themselves it is said. It will be strange if a second generation——' she said no more, and for a moment or two seemed lost in thought—the thought of the past!
Fraulein was used to her aunt's ways; the old lady was a curious mixture of practical commonsense and dreamy fancifulness. But after a little pause the niece recalled her to the present.
'A piece of news, you said, aunt? Good news, I hope?' she inquired.
'I think so,' said the aunt. 'It is about the family at the Castle. Little Baroness Hildegarde is probably, almost certainly, coming here to spend the winter with her grandparents. She may arrive any day.'
'Oh I am pleased to hear it,' said Fraulein. 'It was just what I was hoping might happen, but I dared scarcely think of it. It would be so nice for our dear Leonore to have a companion.'