"'Tis a miracle," he muttered; "'tis nothing short of a miracle to find her here.  But how comes she to be alone in this ruined house, like an enchanted damosel of a fairy tale?  'Tis a strange plight for such a tenderly-nurtured maid, for old Sir Gyles guarded her as the very apple of his eye!  And what state did not he keep, and Hunstanton Hall!  And with what a retinue did he ride to visit us at Highgate!  Yet here is his grandchild without man or maid to serve her, working with her hands like--was I about to say a farm wench?  Fie, fie, like a nymph of Arcadia, rather!  I cannot but call to mind the romances my master whipped me so soundly for wasting my lesson-hours over in Newcastle Grammar School!  I wonder would she flout me, did she guess how like one of those enchanted princesses I deem her?  But, in sad earnest, I must needs ask how this change of fortune is come about; 'tis unmannerly to ask questions, but she cannot look on me as all a stranger, even if she hold no memory of those old days at Highgate. Dare I ask her concerning them?  That were a more perilous adventure; I must take more council with myself ere I can hold I am armed to dare it!"