"Yes, ma'm. Where would you like to go, ma'm?"
"To Daneshead Castle."
The bright-cheeked maid opened her round eyes wider and looked at Cassandra with new interest. "But, ma'm,—that is quite far, though the ponies are smart, too."
"How far is it?"
"It's quite a bit away from here, ma'm; you'd have to start at two or thereabouts. I could take you myself if mother would let me, and tell you all the interesting places, but"—the girl looked at her shrewdly, a quickly withdrawn glance—"that depends on how well acquainted you are there, ma'm. Maybe you'd like better to have a man drive, and just let me go along to mind the baby for you."
"Yes, I would," said Cassandra, gladly.
"Thank you. I'll run for the ponies now, ma'm."
Cassandra heard her boots clatter rapidly down the wooden stairs at the back of the house, and presently saw her dashing across the inn yard, bareheaded and with her bare arms rolled in her apron.
The girl's manner of receiving the statement that she wished to drive to the castle was not lost on Cassandra's sensitive spirit.