‘You do not surely believe in ghosts, Miss Sinclair?’ I asked. ‘You
cannot really credit such stories?’
She turned from me impatiently, saying: ‘It is easy for you to doubt
their existence; perhaps if you had seen what I have, you would think
differently.’
‘What have you seen?’ I inquired.
But offended by my scepticism on the subject, the young lady did not
choose to reply. She drew herself up proudly, and after inquiring if
there was anything I needed, left me to make my toilet.
Vexed with myself for having so soon given offence to my charge, I
strove for the rest of the day to ingratiate myself with her; nor were
my efforts unsuccessful.
‘I think I shall like you,’ she said frankly; ‘that is, if you do not
interfere with me too much. I was dreadfully put out when Cousin told
me you were coming, for I like to be sole mistress here. By the way,
how do you like my guardian? I always call him Cousin, although I do
not at all understand how we are related to each other. I know nothing
of my parents, except that they died when I was a very little child.
Cousin has promised to tell me about them some day; but he looks so
grave whenever I refer to them, that I fancy there must be something
painful for me to learn concerning my parentage, and therefore I do not
intend to ask any more questions. But you have not told me how you like
Mr Aslatt.’
I was amused at her eager curiosity, and told her that although I had
had so little opportunity of judging, I had received a most favourable
impression of her guardian’s character and disposition.
She seemed pleased with my reply. ‘You can have no idea how good he
is,’ she said. ‘But he is a man of strong prejudices, and it is hard to
move him when he has once made up his mind with regard to any person
or thing. Not that I mean to find fault with him, for as far as I am
concerned I have not the least cause of complaint. I cannot tell you
how kind he is to me, or how much I owe him. He is the best old darling
in the world!’
‘He is surely not so very old,’ I remarked, smiling at her enthusiasm.
‘Don’t you think so?’ returned she. ‘He seems quite old to me; but of
course you are much older than I am, and therefore judge differently of
age. Would you mind telling me how old you are? I know it is very rude
of me to ask, but I always seem to do what I ought not.’