“Miss Mary, my dear.”
Chapter Two.
“A Few Crumbs and a Little Fresh Water.”
“Oh bother,” said Mary, “it’s tea—and nurse come to fetch me. What shall we do?”—“Yes, yes, nurse,” in a louder voice, “I’m coming in one moment,” and this seemed to satisfy nurse, for her steps sounded going downstairs again. “She needn’t open the door without tapping,” the little girl went on, speaking half to herself and half to her visitors on the window-sill, “I’m not one of the nursery children now. But oh, Cooies, what shall we do? It would take me ever so long to explain about Michael and to plan something to put it all right.”
“Must you go downstairs at once?” asked Mr Coo. “If you told it to us very quickly.”
But Mary shook her head.
“No—I must go. If I don’t, she’ll be coming up again, or sending for me, and I don’t want any one to hear us talking. They would laugh at me so, and say it was all nonsense. They are always calling me so fanciful.”
“I see,” said Mr Coo, thoughtfully.