"M. Ste. Marie!" And the man said--
"What is it, mademoiselle?"
"You spoke the other day," she said, hesitating over her words, "about
my aunt, Lady Margaret Craith. I suppose I ought not to ask you more
about her, for my father quarrelled with his people very long ago, and
he broke with them altogether. But--surely it can do no harm--just for a
moment--just a very little! Could you tell me a little about her, M.
Ste. Marie? What she is like and--and how she lives--and things like
that?"
So Ste. Marie told her all that he could of the old Irishwoman who lived
alone in her great house and ruled with a slack Irish hand, a sweet
Irish heart, over tenants and dependants. And when he had come to an
end the girl drew a little sigh and said--
"Thank you! I am so glad to hear of her. I--wish everything were
different, so that----I----think I should love her very much if I
might."
"Mademoiselle," said Ste. Marie, "will you promise me something?"