MARY SEES MRS. COPPERT AND MRS. COPPERT SEES MARY
During the next few days Mary saw nothing of Evangeline, though she would have liked very much to hear another story. Sister Agatha often took her on to the beach, and Mary found that, although it is possible to make a great many things out of mud, you can make more and much nicer things out of sand.
Sometimes she thought she should like to have other children to play with, but not the same little boys and girls with whom she used to play in William Street, because she wished never to have anything to do with William Street or Mrs. Coppert again.
One day Mary was sitting with Sister Agatha as usual, when Evangeline entered the room, but she seemed too busy to take much notice of anything except the new dress which she had come to show Sister Agatha. The dress was all white and shiny, with small flowers about it, white flowers, too, and Mary admired it so much as Evangeline held it across her arms that she touched it with her finger-tips.
'Don't you think Mary might go out into the garden?' said Evangeline.
'I ought to fetch her hat then,' said Sister Agatha.
'It is beautifully warm,' answered Evangeline; 'I don't think it can hurt her to go as she is.'
So Sister Agatha told Mary she might go, and she stepped out through the open window just as she was—pinafore and all. For a few minutes she walked about the grass watching a gardener who was mowing it. She looked on whilst he swept the grass he had cut into a basket and emptied the basket into a wheel-barrow. Then he wheeled the barrow to an iron gate, and having passed through the gate, he disappeared round the corner.
Now, Mary thought it would be rather nice to go through that gate and round the corner too, and a minute later she found herself in the same road, with trees on each side of it, along which Evangeline had driven the cream-coloured ponies on the day of her arrival. Mary walked on and on, until presently she reached the cottage where she had seen the old woman in the red cloak. But no one was to be seen at present, and on going close to the gate, Mary found there was a smaller one by its side, and as this happened to be open, she passed through it into the public road.
She felt so glad to be in the road that she began to jump about and to clap her little hands. And yet she did not know why she should be glad, for the park was a far nicer place after all. Still she did feel pleased, and without thinking where she was going, or whether Sister Agatha would like her to go or not, Mary began to scamper away from the house.
The sun felt very hot, and Mary soon became breathless, so she stopped just where the road bent round towards the railway station and sat down by a high, green, flowery bank.
It really seemed very nice sitting there in the brilliant sunshine, and she leaned back until her head touched the green bank. Presently Mary closed her eyes, and though she opened them once or twice it was not long before she fell fast asleep. She did not know how much later it was when she awoke in a great fright, for she dreamed she heard Mrs. Coppert's voice, heard it quite distinctly, as if it were only a few yards from her ears. Of course it was a dream! Mary told herself that before she had time to open her eyes; but when she did open them she looked up and saw Mrs. Coppert in the road, staring down at her.
Nobody was in sight—nobody but Mrs. Coppert! Mrs. Coppert was a fat woman and tall; she had a large, shiny, red face, and great arms and hands under her cloak, and a bright blue feather in her bonnet. She was not a nice-looking person at all, and she spoke as if she were going to cry. But Mary had never seen her cry, though she had seen her make children cry very often.
'Dear me!' exclaimed Mrs. Coppert, 'if it isn't little Mary Brown! So smart, too,' she said, leaning forward and taking Mary's skirt between her fingers. 'And to think of those other poor children at home. They don't wear such fine dresses, and you haven't even asked how they are!'
'How are they?' whispered Mary, feeling very frightened.
'Haven't they got names of their own?' asked Mrs. Coppert.
'How are Sally and 'Liza and Tubby?' said Mary, knowing it was always the best to obey Mrs. Coppert.
'So happy, you'd never believe it,' was the answer. 'Troublesome, I must say; but that's overfeeding. I always did overfeed my children. And they're quite longing to see Mary Brown again, and so they shall, bless 'em!'
Mary still sat on the grass with her right hand in her pocket. Tightly between her finger and thumb she held her purse which contained the Magic Counter. Perhaps you wonder why she did not give it to Mrs. Coppert and tell her to go away at once. It is quite true that Mary believed that if she gave it to anybody, it would make her do whatever she wished, and she certainly wished Mrs. Coppert to go away. But at the same time Mary felt sure that Mrs. Coppert would keep whatever was given to her, and put it in her large pocket; while she was a woman who never did what she was asked to do. What Mary hoped was that some one else might come along the road, and then she would take out the Magic Counter at once and ask that Mrs. Coppert should be sent away.
'I'm not going to see them,' said Mary with tears in her eyes; 'I don't want to see them.'
'There now!' cried Mrs. Coppert, 'there's ingratitude! And them like brothers and sisters almost. You just get up off that grass and come along of me.'
'I want to go home,' answered Mary. 'I must go home, I must,' she said, and now she was crying as if her heart would break.
'Of course you must!' exclaimed Mrs. Coppert. 'Ain't I going to take you home? Isn't William Street your home? Haven't you lived there all your life? Haven't I been a mother to you?'
'But I—I can't go without saying good-bye to Sister Agatha and Evangeline!' cried Mary, as she stood upright. 'I must say good-bye,' she sobbed; 'they won't know where I am.'
'Oh yes they will,' was the answer. 'I'll see to that,' said Mrs. Coppert, taking one of Mary's arms; 'never you fear. Wait till we get back to William Street and I'll write a nice letter. So just you come along and no nonsense!'
Mrs. Coppert held Mary's arm so tightly that it quite hurt, but fortunately it was the left arm which she held, so that Mary could still keep her right hand in her pocket. And she managed to put one of her fingers inside the purse and to take out the Magic Counter.
She held it all ready to give to the first person she saw come along the road, and although she felt more frightened than she had ever felt before, Mary still hoped that something might happen to prevent her from being taken back to William Street. But at present Mary saw nobody from one end of the road to the other, nobody but Mrs. Coppert, whom she did not want to see. She was dragged along the sunny road almost blind with tears, but as they drew nearer the railway station Mrs. Coppert held her less tightly.
Mary wondered whether it was the same road that Evangeline had brought her along the day she arrived, but she did not think it could be the same, for, to-day, she had not passed the shops and small houses. At all events, whether it was the same road or not she thought she could see the small railway station only a little way off, and now Mary grew more afraid than ever, for if she was once inside the station she might be put into a train and taken back to London after all! She was just wondering whether it would not be possible to give the Magic Counter to the man who drove the train and tell him to take her back to Sister Agatha, when she uttered a cry of surprise, for she saw a tall young man coming towards them and she recognised him at once.
'It's the prince!' she exclaimed, 'it's the prince!'
Now Mary had never felt very, very fond of the prince, because he was going to take Evangeline away from her. Of course she admired him, for he was a very handsome prince, but Mary had never spoken to him although she had often seen him in the garden. She felt greatly delighted to see him now, however, and she held her Magic Counter so that she could take it out of her pocket directly he came near. Still it is not very nice to have to speak to a person you have never spoken to before, and Mary felt a little shy about it.
'It's the prince, is it?' said Mrs. Coppert laughing; 'as if princes went walking about in that way.'
'I know he is a prince,' answered Mary, 'because Sister Agatha says so.'
'Oh, so he's a friend of hers, is he?' asked Mrs. Coppert; and Mary thought she looked rather anxious. 'I suppose now he doesn't happen to know you?'
'No,' answered Mary; 'but that doesn't matter,' she added.
'Well,' said Mrs. Coppert, 'just you listen to me. What you've got to do is to walk nicely by my side as if you were coming willingly—none of your crying or hanging back, or it'll be the worse for you.'
She released Mary's arm now, and for a few yards the child walked quietly by her side, but as soon as the prince drew nearer, Mary ran away from Mrs. Coppert and stopped right in front of him, looking up anxiously into his face and holding the Magic Counter out for him to take.
'Hullo!' he cried, looking a little amused, 'what's that for?'
'Take it, please,' said Mary, pressing it against his hand. 'Please take it,' she said. 'I do want you to take it quickly,' and she glanced over her shoulder at Mrs. Coppert, who had stopped in the middle of the road.
'Are you Mary Brown?' asked the prince, taking the Magic Counter in his hand. For although he had never spoken to her, it is very likely he had heard her story from Evangeline.
'Yes,' answered Mary, 'I'm Mary Brown, and this is Mrs. Coppert. She wants to take me back to William Street and I don't want to go. And I shan't have to go now, because you must send Mrs. Coppert away and take me back to Sister Agatha.'
Then the prince looked at Mrs. Coppert and she made a curtsey. 'I understood,' said the prince, 'that Miss Royal had arranged everything satisfactorily with you.'
'It ain't very satisfactory to part with one you've been more than a mother to,' answered Mrs. Coppert, and Mary thought her voice sounded as if she were going to cry. 'You come along of me,' she added, seizing Mary's arm again. But the prince would not allow this, and in fact Mary did not feel in the least frightened now, because she had given him the Magic Counter, you see! He lifted Mary Brown in his arms and carried her towards the house, and as she looked back over his shoulder, she saw Mrs. Coppert following some distance off. When the prince carried Mary into the park Mrs. Coppert began to run, and her large face looked redder and more shiny than ever. The prince carried Mary in at the front door, and a lot of people who were pushing balls about on the green table with long sticks left off to laugh at him.
But suddenly Evangeline appeared amongst them; Mary did not know where she came from, but of course Evangeline could appear when and where she pleased; and instead of laughing when she saw the prince with Mary in his arms, she ran towards him looking very glad and whispering something that Mary could not hear. Then Evangeline took her upstairs to the bedroom, where she found Sister Agatha. Sister Agatha took Mary on her knees and said she had done wrong to leave the garden, but she kissed her instead of scolding her any more, and Mary liked it much better.
'Only you must never go away like that again,' she said. 'Because we did not know what had happened to you, and you frightened us very much. But still,' Sister Agatha added, 'even if Mrs. Coppert had taken you to London, we should have come to fetch you away again.'