And so, though rather reluctantly, Margaret spoke of her dream friend,
and of how, since the days of her childhood, she had managed to keep her
existence a secret even from her grandfather and her governess until ten
days ago, when the former, overhearing her talking to herself in the
wood, had suspected the presence of a stranger, and though that had been
contrary to his most stringent rules, had not been a whit appeased when
he learned that the person to whom his granddaughter was talking was an
imaginary one.
Margaret need not have been afraid that Eleanor would pour ridicule on
her shadowy friend; on the contrary, the latter was too touched by the
picture of the lonely life the other must have led even to smile.
"It really is quite a coincidence that my name is Eleanor, too," she
remarked thoughtfully, "and I am not altogether sure that the name is a
fortunate one for you. You see, the first Eleanor ended by getting you
into fairly hot water, and the second Eleanor, which is me, is in a fair
way to do likewise. But I am glad you told me about the first Eleanor. As
she played such an important part in your life it would never have done
for me to have been in complete ignorance of her existence. Now this is
how I propose we should employ the next half-hour or so. Have you got a
sheet of paper and a pencil? No," as Margaret shook her head.
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