Words on a page

It was a terrible idea to visit the Lennox estate. Now Ceci wanted to visit everyday, and constantly searched for excuses to go. She wanted to walk the halls and corridors, examine the pictures on the walls, the books in the library. She wanted to read every book in that ridiculously enormous library. She wanted to sit in Corran's study and inspect every object he had touched. She wanted to sit in the window and stare out at the beautiful courtyard; explore every hillock, meadow, pasture and wood of the land. She wanted to sit beneath the shadow of that fantastic castle of a house and stare up at the clouds in its windows.

Corran let her shuffle back and forth, up and down the isles of bookshelves to her heart's desire. He didn't criticize as she bent over on her hands and knees to read the spines of books on the bottom shelves. "Oftentimes you find the best books buried at the bottom. I believe that's so because you have to work harder to find them."
Corran smiled down at her, hands clasped behind his back, the very picture of a gentlemanly host.
He didn't say a word even when she climbed to the top of the library ladder to exam the books at the very top. (He only looked away modestly when she lifted her skirts to climb unhindered.)
When she was finished, she carried a stack of books which were quickly transferred to Corran's arms at his insistence.
Upon leaving the library, Ceci and Corran turned round another corridor. This one opened out into a little circular alcove. A spiral staircase swirled beautifully up to the next floor, and a little girl sat near a curved window. The window had panes of blue glass and a small wooden easel sat in front of the little girl. She was the palest child Ceci had ever beheld; her ringlets were almost white and her skin was the color of ivory. She wore a long dress of light blue that seemed unnaturally long on a child so small. The little girl hummed to herself as she painted. As Ceci watched, she stopped a moment and gave a little jerk of her hand. A small musical sound erupted in the round room; Ceci realized she had a little harp at her elbow and had plucked one of the strings.
The girl finally realized she wasn't alone; she looked up at the two figures standing in the corridor. For an instant, astonishment sprang to her small face. She fancied some exotic lady had made a sudden appearance in her presence; Ceci's long dark ringlets, unbound, unhampered and falling down her back were fascinating.
Corran stood behind Miss Moore, hands still clasped carefully behind his back, and studied this first encounter. It was like something from a fairy story; an angel meeting a sprite.
Corran reached out and gently led Ceci to the little sprite sitting by the window, who stood up, hastily, recognition dawning on her features.
"Pearl, look who I've brought you to meet," Corran said.
"Is this her? Oh, I knew it must be," Pearl exclaimed, a brilliant smile alighting on her face.
The angel at Corran's side let her elbow fall from his grasp. "Pearl?" she said, surprised.
"Would you let me call you Cecily? Like the one in Italy?" Pearl said, suddenly clasping Miss Moore's arm.
"That's Sicily, Pearl," Corran said.
Cecil suddenly let out a laugh. It wasn't a polite laugh, or a giggle, or a chuckle like Corran's; it was a loud, wholesome laugh and it rang around the round room and up the spiral staircase.
Pearl dropped her grip from Ceci's arm, startled.
"Sicily," Ceci said, clasping a hand to her chest.
It was the most incandescent smile Corran had ever seen on a woman's face.
Pearl wasn't sure whether she should humor this crazy lady or run away.
"Pearl is a beautiful name," Ceci said, "And I adore Sicily," she stopped to giggle. "Do please call me Sicily."
"Al... right," Pearl replied.
She looked up at her brother, who's face displayed an almost foolish aspect of pleasure.