Hannah, too, heard the sound and the opening of the kitchen door, and hurrying from her father’s bedside, she called out, sharply: 

“Who is it?  Who’s there?”

“My name is Norval, on the Grampian hills,” was replied, in the well-remembered voice of Grey, who continued, merrily, as he approached her:  “And you, dear Aunt Hannah, you are the dame with the wonderful name which forward and backward still reads the same.”

He did not attempt to waltz with her, as he had done with Lucy; he had tried it once, but she went the wrong way, and he told her there was no more dance in her than in the kitchen tongs.  So now he only wound his arms around her and kissed her many times, and when she sat down in a chair, he stood over her and smoothed her hair and thought how gray it had grown within the year.  He had no suspicion that there was any secret sorrow weighing upon her, but he knew that her life was a hard one, owing to the peculiarities of his grandfather, and now as he looked at her, he felt a great pity for her, and there was a lump in his throat, as he stooped to kiss her again and said: 

“Poor auntie, you look so tired and pale.  Is grandpa so very sick, and more troublesome than usual?”

Hannah had not cried in years.  Indeed it was the effort of her life to keep her tears back, but now, at the sound of Grey’s sympathetic voice and the touch of his fresh, warm lips upon her own, she broke down entirely, and for a few moments sobbed as if her heart would break, while Grey in great concern, knelt down before her, and tried to comfort her.

“What is it, auntie?” he said.  “Is it because you are so lonely, and are afraid grandpa will die?  I’ll take care of you then, and we will go to Europe together, and you shall ride on a mule and cross the Mer-de-Glace.  I used to think when I was over there how we would some day go together, and I would show you everything.”

At the mention of Europe, Hannah’s tears ceased, and commanding her voice, she said, abruptly: 

“Did you go to Wales?”

“Yes, we went there first.  Don’t you remember?”

Without answering that question, Hannah continued: 

“Did you go to Carnarvon?”

“Carnarvon!  I guess we did.  We spent a whole day at the old castle, and went all over it, and into the room where the first Prince of Wales was born.  It isn’t much bigger than our bath-room.  But I tell you those old ruins are grand;” and with all a boy’s enthusiasm over his first trip to Europe, Grey launched out into a graphic description of what, he had seen and done, repeating everything ridiculous in order to make his Aunt Hannah laugh.