Celia could scarcely refrain from singing; she walked quickly, and sometimes, to Roddy's delight, she ran races with him.

She came to the end of the moor at last, and swung down to the high road, followed it for some time and presently came to two cross-roads.

She was hesitating which to take, when a small phaeton, drawn by an Exmoor pony, came rolling towards her.
In the phaeton was an old lady with white hair and a pleasant countenance; she had very sharp eyes and a smile that was a trifle cynical.

At sight of the young girl, with the brilliant eyes and the healthily flushed cheeks, she stopped the pony and looked at Celia curiously.

Celia felt as if she must speak to everyone that morning, so she went up to the tiny carriage and asked how far it was, by the road, to Thexford Hall.
"Oh, I see," said the old lady.