She clasped it round Mary’s neck as she spoke.
“Yes,” she said, “it fits you perfectly. I felt sure it would. I should like you always to wear it.”
“I will,” said Mary, and she held up her face to kiss her godmother.
So it was a happy little Mary who went back that day to the friends in the Square, happy to have her again.
For though there was no wood-pigeons’ nest in the gardens, there was the thought in her heart of seeing her Cooies again “in the spring.”
And when Michael came home she showed him his feather, safe in its old place—the inside of his letter—in her little writing-case.
“It is a pretty feather,” he said, “it has such a nice sparkle on it too.”
Mary smiled. She had her own little secrets, you see!
The End.