“I would dreadfully like to see the forest,” she said, “but of course—”
She was going to say that she would be pleased to do whatever her godmother thought best, but she felt rather shy. Miss Verity considered for a minute or two, then,—
“I think we had better do both,” she said. “Both drive and walk. Magpie needs some exercise, and I want to ask how an old friend of mine is, who lives too far off to walk there; though her house too is on the edge of the forest. That will take us about an hour and a half, so if we start at a quarter past two we shall still have time for a wander on this side of the woods before it gets too chilly and dusk.”
“Thank you,” said Mary. In her heart she felt rather disappointed that she would have no time, or very little, that day to see her Cooies, but still, after all, it was a great thing to see something of the forest and get leave, perhaps, to stroll about there by herself.
“And possibly,” she thought, “we may meet them. Godmother would not know them, but I am sure I would, and they could not feel frightened of her when she is so sweet and kind.”
She was ready in good time, and waiting at the door when Miss Verity came downstairs. It was really quite curious to see how Magpie pricked up her ears the moment she heard her mistress’s voice, and the very slightest touch on the reins was enough to tell her which way she was to go or to hurry her up a little if she were jogging along too deliberately.
It was a pretty drive—indeed, Mary thought that all the drives about there were pretty—and quite in a different direction from the way they had come the day before. And when Miss Verity went in to see her friend who was ill, Mary strolled about the garden by herself. It was a nice garden, but not to be compared with the one at Dove’s Nest, Mary thought, and there did not seem to be nearly so many birds hopping about, or chirping in the trees. She felt very glad that her godmother did not stay long, as, though she tried not to be impatient, she was very eager indeed to go back for the promised walk in the forest.
And Magpie seemed to understand, or so Mary fancied, though most likely it was that she knew she was going home, for she did not require any sort of cheering up to go quickly, but trotted along as fast as Miss Verity would let her.
The man-servant was waiting for them at the door, so Mary jumped out at once and glanced up at her godmother.
“Yes, dear,” said Miss Verity, in reply to the unspoken words, “yes, I have not forgotten. Tell Myrtle,”—Myrtle was the parlour-maid—“to have tea ready for us in an hour,” she added, turning to the man. She looked up at the sky as she spoke. “Yes,” she went on, “I think we can safely stay out three-quarters of an hour or so before it gets too chilly. And it is not going to rain.”