"But is it true?"
"Quite true."
"What will it come in?"
"A bandbox, of course," answered Grandnurse, laughing gaily as she went out of the room.
"Can I fetch it? When can I fetch it?" persisted Monica, following her downstairs.
"When there's a blue moon. Now go back, there's a dear."
"Yes, but who's going to bring it?"
"Don't ask me—ask the man in the moon," said the little old woman over her shoulder in a hushed voice as she disappeared down a dark passage of the large house.
Monica, standing there, laughed a little scornful laugh. "Ask the man in the moon, indeed!" she muttered. "As though there were one! She often says that, but I'm not so silly as to believe it." And full of thought of the new little sister she re-entered the nursery.
The heavy curtains had not been drawn, and the moon was looking at her just as it had done during the drive. How lovely it was, that drive! She went to the large window seat and curled herself up in her favourite corner. Outside it looked so cold and white that she drew the curtain close around her with a little shiver.