She looks exceptionally pleased at that -- not just pleased, but warmed. Her conversation with Byerly had been a catharsis, draining all that weariness and doubt from her, but here, with Miles, she's refilling that empty space with hope. A different kind of hope than Byerly gives her, but no less important.

"Good," she sighs, contented. Miles, for all his obvious...idiosyncrasies, let's call them...is clearly a good man. It heartens her to think that he would have been her grandson's closest relative.

She looks suddenly diffident, wrapping a finger idly around one of her curls as she looks up at Miles through her lashes, smile shy. "I know I'm his grandmother, not his mother, but -- is he anything like me?"