tle girl, showing her worry. "You look unwell! Are you sick?"
This girl was exactly Charlene, the daughter of the count. She only just noticed Edith standing there and got a little surprised. Then she smiled and shook her head, explaining, "I''m fine. I''ve been holed up in my room reading, so my face might look a bit pale."
"Why don''t you come outside to play?" asked Edith, feeling confused.
Charlene lightly tapped on the armrest of her wheelchair and said, "Didn''t you see my wheelchair? I can''t walk. I got ill, then I couldn''t feel my legs anymore. I guess I probably will never be able to stand up again."
"Wheelchair? I''ve never seen this before." Little Edith curiously looked at the refreshing big thing in front of her.
Charlene was happy because the girl in front of her didn''t apologise.
Ever since her legs became paralysed, the grown-ups would always look at her with sympathetic eyes and come up with all sorts of awkward ways to hide their pity.
They would cautiously avoid looking or mentioning her leg sticks. Even though she could see through their thoughts, she had to go along with them, like a "poor sick child".
Once, two new young maids didn''t know Charlene was nearby and started talking in the hallway.
Charlene overheard their sighs and whispers, mixed with pity and excitement. "Ay, who would have thought that a young lady with such noble birth and good luck, would become a cripple!"