“That is a good thing,” said Miss Verity, smiling. “I will give you an idea of how I usually spend the day. Of course it changes a little between summer and winter, but just now it is rather between the two. Well, as a rule, I am busy about house things for an hour or so after breakfast, and then I generally take a stroll round the garden and go to see the ponies, and then I write letters or read till luncheon. In the afternoon I go a drive—once or twice a week I pay calls, and once or twice I go to see some of the cottage people; of course if they are ill or in trouble and I know of it, I go oftener.”
“May I come with you when you go to the cottages?” Mary asked. “I like to see the funny little rooms, and sometimes there are such nice babies. But,” she went on half timidly, “I’d rather not pay lady calls. Auntie takes me with her sometimes, but I generally wait for her outside in the carriage.”
“I will not take you to pay any ‘lady calls’ where you would feel strange or shy,” said Miss Verity, “but at one or two of my friends, there are children whom you would like—about your own age.”
“Ye-es,” Mary replied, rather doubtfully, “but, please, godmother, I should be quite happy here with just you. And sometimes mayn’t I go a little walk alone in the forest?”
Miss Verity considered.
“Yes,” she said, “I don’t see any reason why you should not. It is perfectly safe: there are no tramps or gypsies about here. I will take you there once or twice myself and explain the paths a little, so that there would be no fear of your losing your way. And now I shall be busy for an hour, or half-an-hour any way. After that we can stroll about a little together.”
“And then?” said Mary.
“Then,” said Miss Verity, with her half comical smile, “supposing we do some lessons? I promised your auntie that I would read French with you, as I have been more accustomed to it than she herself or your governess.”
“Would you like me to learn some French by heart to say to you?” asked Mary. She wanted to please her godmother, for she felt how very kind she was, and I think too, she wanted Miss Verity to see that she could be trusted, so that she could now and then be free to talk to her Cooies.
“And perhaps,” she thought, “perhaps I may meet them in the wood and see where they live, and see some more Cooies—their cousins. That would be lovely.”