A charming nest it was—no little girl could have helped being delighted with it Miss Verity was rewarded for the trouble she had taken to make it nice for Mary by the look on her god-daughter’s face, and the cry of pleasure that she gave.
There was a little bed in one corner, with pink and white curtains at the head, a dressing-table to match, and a wicker-work chair with cushions covered with the same dimity. And all the furniture was light and small, so as to leave plenty of room for moving about Mary’s trunk had already been brought in, and when she had time to notice it Mary wondered how the servants had got it up the tiny staircase. But just at first, the thing that caught her eyes was the view from one of the windows. No, one can scarcely call it a “view,” a “look-out” is a better word, for, as Pleasance had told her, it was really into the trees. Standing there you almost felt as if you were living in a tree yourself. And after a happy glance round, Mary flew to this window.
“It is all lovely,” she said, “but this is the nicest of everything.”
The window was half open. Miss Verity followed her to it, and laid her hand on Mary’s shoulder.
“Listen,” she said.
And then from the depths of the dark green shade came, what to Mary was almost the sweetest sound in the world,—“Coo-coo,” and again “Coo-coo,” as if in reply.
“It is the wood-pigeons,” said Miss Verity, and the little girl smiled to herself at her godmother thinking she did not know. “Isn’t it sweet? I have never heard them so near as the last few days. Just as if it was to welcome you, Mary!”
And at this Mary’s smile almost turned into a laugh.
Then Miss Verity opened a door in a corner which Mary had not seen before, and again there was a short flight of steps, leading downwards.
“This is the near way into my room,” said her godmother, “so you will never feel lonely. If you tap at the second door,” for there was one at the foot of the steps as well as at the top, “I shall always hear you. Sometimes the door is locked, but I will keep it unfastened while you are here. It is so now, as your trunk has been brought through this way. Now, take off your things, dear, and come down to tea. You will find it and me waiting for you in the drawing-room.”