"Mousey!"
She started at the sound of Mr. Harding's voice calling to her. He was evidently at the foot of the stairs, and she hastened to open the door and respond to his summons.
"Yes, Cousin Robert," she answered, wondering what he could want, for he had not taken much notice of her during the few days since her arrival.
"Put on your hat and jacket, child; I am going to take you for a walk before dinner."
She quickly did his bidding, and joined him clown-stairs with a glow of pleasurable anticipation on her face. He had changed the drab coat he usually wore for the equally shabby black one in which Mousey had first seen him, and in his hand he held the high hat which John Monday had declared no one else in the town would wear. It had certainly seen its best days long before, and was now rough and rusty with age.
The old man glanced kindly at Mousey as she came running downstairs, and asked if she was pleased at the idea of going out with him. He appeared gratified when she assured him that she was.
They sallied forth together, a rather odd-looking couple Maria thought, as she watched them out of sight. Very soon they had reached one of the main thoroughfares of the town, and were crossing a broad stone bridge under which the river flowed.
"Is it the same river that runs under your house, Cousin Robert?" Mousey inquired.
"The same," he responded. "It looks quiet enough to-day, but often in the winter it's a raging torrent."
The sunshine was dancing on the gently rippling water, whilst every now and again there was the flutter of white wings as one seagull, then another, swooped down and rested on the surface of the river.