For of what use to inform Aunt Ginevra about that enchanting visit to
Cheiron! Aunt Ginevra who knew not of such beings!

"The orchard's let," grunted old William--"they do say it's sold--"

"I had rather not hear of it, William," said Miss La Sarthe frowning.
"It does not concern one what occurs beyond one's gates."

Old William growled gently, and continued his laborious task--one of the
wheels squeaked as it turned on the flags.

"Aunt Ginevra, you must have that oiled," said Halcyone, as she screwed
up her face. "How can you bear it? You can't see the lovely spring
things, with that noise."

"One does not see with one's ears, Halcyone," quavered Miss La Sarthe.
"Take me in now, William."

"And she can't even see them with her eyes--poor Aunt Ginevra!" Halcyone
said to herself, as she walked respectfully by the chair until it passed
the front door on its way to the side. Then she bounded up the steps and
through the paneled, desolate hall, taking joy in climbing the dog-gates
at the turn of the stairs, which she could easily have opened--and she
did not pause until she reached her own room in the battered south wing,
and was soon curled up in the broad window sill, her hands clasped round
her knees.

For this was a wonderful thing which had come into her life.--She had
met someone who could see the other side of her head! Henceforth there
would be a human voice, not only a fairy's, to converse with her.