"Shall I tell you about my home, Lady Violet?"
"Yes, do; it will be just like a story."
So Marjorie began by describing Borrowdale and their pretty house on the hill; she told her about her mother, Leila, Phyllis, and little Carl; she spoke of the garden with its spring flowers, of the walk through the woods to Watendlath, at the top of the hill, of the quiet village church, of her old women and the quaint cottages in which they lived, of her life at home and of how she spent her days;—all this she told her, in her own bright, pleasant way, until the poor girl beside her was soothed and interested, and forgot her pain and weariness whilst she listened.
"Thank you," she said, when Marjorie stopped. "I can see it all as if I had been there. May I have another chapter to-morrow evening, and will you call Collins now to help me into bed? And do you mind telling me your Christian name?? I should like to call you by it if I may; Miss Douglas sounds so formal."
"Please do; my name is Marjorie. I shall feel I am at home, Lady Violet, if I hear you say it."
As the weeks went on, Marjorie soon became accustomed to her new life in the Castle. Beyond going for a walk daily in the lovely park and gardens, she spent all her time with Lady Violet. They had meals together in the pretty sitting-room, and Marjorie saw very little of the other members of the family. When they came to see Lady Violet, she generally went into her bedroom to write her letters, or strolled along one of the grassy terraces, or gathered primroses and moss in the copse wood to adorn Lady Violet's room.
By degrees, very slow degrees at first, Lady Violet let her companion know a little of what her thoughts and feelings were. She had been most reserved at first, and at one time Marjorie had felt as if she would never really know her. But one evening, when Marjorie had been at Grantley Castle about a month, the ice was broken for the first time. Lady Violet had been very restless and impatient all day; nothing was right that was done for her; she found fault with every one, and Marjorie herself experienced some difficulty in keeping bright and cheerful when all her efforts to cheer the patient seemed such an utter failure.
But after dinner, when Marjorie was sitting beside her with her work in her hand, Lady Violet suddenly said—
"Marjorie, I've been horrid all day; why don't you tell me so?"
Marjorie laughed. "Do you want a scolding?" she said.