'You live here don't you...your father is the padre - the vicar - isn't he?'
'Yes,' she nodded...but no other words issued from this sensitive soul. The front entrance was not locked and gently pushing, her movement opened the door as she beckoned him to join her. 'I can make some tea - I would like to make you a cup of tea,' she said softly
'Is he in... your father?'
She shook her head slowly and for the first time her eyes looked up seeking his. For several seconds they held each other's gaze, her hand still holding his arm...then cupping his right hand in both of hers.
'I was making you a proper quilt at the time to keep you warm, and some mittens too for your poor hands - I want to show them to you. They are in my bedroom,' she announced shyly, lowering her gaze. As she turned to c
