The first time that William Kemberton saw her, she was sitting cross-legged in a small clearing running her fingers through the grass. He paused at a tree before approaching her, surprised that anyone had dared to be on his family’s property without his family’s knowledge. He didn’t recognise her either, thinking that he hadn’t seen her face in the yard or at dinners, but not afraid of who or what she might be, he moved forward to find out why she was sitting in the grass in a dress that would bring disgust to his mother’s face. The first time that Roselia Smythe saw him, she was humming to herself and slowly gliding her hand through the soft waves of green grass about her. She heard him approaching and looked up, pausing her humming, but his expression was bemused more than anything else, vacant of expression that might wish her harm, and by his height she thought that perhaps he was her age or even a few years younger. That afternoon, when William and Roselia met, the young sir was in his eleventh year and she was in her tenth. They said little to each other at first, gauging each other’s behaviour before talking at great length for the remainder of the sun hours, causing Roselia to hurry home. As she ran away, William could not be anything other than startled. He held the little glass gift she had given him, the one that showed many colours in the light and the one he had perceived her most sweetest smile through, the smile that caused his heart to become all aflutter. He walked home quietly, the glass tucked carefully in his pocket as he thumbed it, wondering who she was, as she hadn’t graced him with a greeting like a normal little lady would. He thought about the way her words had entered him, through his ears and his heart and, so affected by them, promised to abide by them for the remainder of his lifetime. “Enjoy the world,” she had said, “for it has many beautiful and interesting things to offer that you might not see unless you are looking.” He walked home with a strange tingle coursing about his blood and an eagerness that could not be contained as he wondered when they would next meet.