“Her character _is_ formed,” rejoined the other, with conviction. As she spoke, her eyes were fixed upon a neighbouring apple tree, with Fritz among its shaking branches; immediately below, stood an expectant figure with an imperious voice, and outstretched skirts. “I have a terrible presentiment,” continued Letty, “so keen, that it actually hurts me.” “Bah,” scoffed Mrs. Hesketh, “I don’t believe in such things,--in absolutely nothing beyond the range of sense. Why go to meet trouble half way? What is your bug-a-boo?” “That Hugo will find us yet--and take Cara from me.” “My dear, I can assure you, that if Cara is taken--against her will--as I believe would be the case--she will make her father rue the day, and bitterly repent of his folly in sackcloth and ashes. For my part,” she went on courageously, “I wish to goodness, he _would_--steal her!” “Oh, Cousin Maude!” cried Letty, turning to her a glowing face, “what a cruel, cruel thing to wish!” “Possibly it was; but honestly I feel, as they say in Norfolk, ‘as if I’d like to do someone an injury,’ when I think of the years that your locust has eaten.” This announcement, transfixing and incredible, had the effect of reducing Letty to absolute silence. Sometimes Cousin Maude had odd moods and made wild and extraordinary statements; on such occasions it was prudent to be mute. Presently they rose, and wandered back to the farm, and were greeted by Cara, who came bounding to meet them, screaming at the top of her voice: “Tea is ready, and I’m so hungry--there’s hot cakes and cherry jam!” A few days later, Mrs. Hesketh ordered a sleeping-berth, and prepared to return to Thornby, where important law business awaited her. “How I shall miss you,” said Letty, as they took their last walk together by the lake-side, and watched the lights begin to twinkle in far-away Lucerne. “It will be worse for me, than if you had never come.” “Nonsense, my dear,” rejoined her friend; “it is only in story-books that people are missed. As for you,--you have the remedy in your own hands.” But Letty’s determination was unshaken, and, as her companion angrily declared: “You are always strong and obstinate, where you ought to be yielding; and yielding, where you should be firm.” Mrs. Hesketh departed, and left behind her such an aching void, that more than once Letty, the obstinate, found her resolve sorely shaken, and felt half inclined to take all risks, and follow her friend to England. CHAPTER XXVII