It was plainly furnished; a square table, an armchair, and two others, a cupboard in the wall, and a bookshelf, but the window opened out upon a green lawn, and there were bright crocuses and hyacinths in the flower-beds.
Harebell went straight to the bookcase. A very dingy row of books were there, and though she took them down one by one, there was not one story-book amongst them. The only book she thought might prove interesting was an illustrated encyclopædia. That she decided she would look at and read some other day. She opened the low window, but shivered at the cold blast of air which swept into the room. Then she ran out into the passage again and up the stairs.
In a very few minutes, she got into her warm coat and cap, and a little later was dancing and skipping round the old garden. Presently she came to a green door in the old wall. She tried to open it, then found it was bolted, but after a few valiant efforts she unbolted it, and discovered that it led out into the road.
"Now," she said to herself, "I am going to see what England is like!"
England seemed extremely dull, as she walked along, for it was a country road, and the two tall hedges on either side quite prevented her from seeing over the tops of them.
"I haven't anybody to talk to," she said, with a pang of self-pity; "all my darlings left in India, and I'm sick, quite sick of grown-up people! They don't understand, and they never will!"
She walked along discontentedly; then suddenly looked up in delight. Round a corner, came a little girl and boy followed by a lady. In an instant Harebell had darted forward, and had held out her hand.
"How do you do?" she said to the little girl. "What is your name? Mine is Harebell, and I only came to England yesterday."
The little girl stared at her, and then smiled in a hesitating sort of way. She was shorter than Harebell, and much fatter; she had pretty flaxen hair which fell down to her waist.
The boy was very much the same height and had the same colouring. He laughed out loud at Harebell's speech.