Molly turned pink. Then, she smiled.
"I don't know how I came to do it," she declared. "It just rushed out of its own accord. I suppose it is because I know I can trust you."
Jimmy flushed with pleasure. He turned to her, and half-halted, but she continued to walk on.
"You can," he said, "but how do you know you can?"
She seemed surprised. "Why—" she said. She stopped for a moment, and then went on hurriedly, with a touch of embarrassment. "Why, how absurd! Of course, I know. Can't you read faces? I can. Look," she said, pointing, "now you can see the castle. How do you like it?"
They had reached a point where the fields sloped sharply downward. A few hundred yards away, backed by woods, stood the gray mass of stone which had proved such a kill-joy of old to the Welsh sportsmen during the pheasant season. Even now, it had a certain air of defiance. The setting sun lighted the waters of the lake. No figures were to be seen moving in the grounds. The place resembled a palace of sleep.
"Well?" said Molly.
"Isn't it! I'm so glad it strikes you like that. I always feel as if I had invented everything round here. It hurts me if people don't appreciate it."
They went down the hill.