Nobody knew just who told it first . But more than one person saw her . Grandfather saw her when he was a little boy . And my mother saw her once . '' `` Did YOU ever see her ? '' asked Felix skeptically . `` No , but I shall some day , if I keep on believing in her , '' said the Story Girl confidently . `` I would n't like to see her . I 'd be afraid , '' said Cecily with a shiver . `` There would n't be anything to be afraid of , '' said the Story Girl reassuringly . `` It 's not as if it were a strange ghost . It 's our own family ghost , so of course it would n't hurt us . '' We were not so sure of this . Ghosts were unchancy folk , even if they were our family ghosts . The Story Girl had made the tale very real to us . We were glad we had not heard it in the evening . How could we ever have got back to the house through the shadows and swaying branches of a darkening orchard ? As it was , we were almost afraid to look up it , lest we should see the waiting , blue-clad Emily under Uncle Alec 's tree . But all we saw was Felicity , tearing over the green sward , her curls streaming behind her in a golden cloud . `` Felicity 's afraid she 's missed something , '' remarked the Story Girl in a tone of quiet amusement .
`` Is your breakfast ready , Felicity , or have I time XXXXX tell the boys the Story of the Poet Who Was Kissed ? ''
As behind if in of over than to under with