“Yes, it might be,” was the reply.
“Well, then, mayn’t I think it is?”
“It will not do you any harm to do so.”
But here Mrs Coo interrupted.
“Do not tease the dear child,” she said, for Mrs Coo could speak up sometimes. “I promise you you are not far wrong, very far from far wrong indeed, if you do think so.”
Mary felt very pleased and quite ready to go on with her questions. She looked about her to settle what to ask next.
“Please tell me,” she said, “what are all those lots and lots of little arbours opening out of this very big one, and may I run about and peep into them?”
“One question at a time, if you’ve no objection,” said the pigeon on her right hand again. “The small bowers are arranged for separate families when we have our great assemblies. We do everything in a very orderly way. As for looking into them, you may certainly do so—there is a great deal for you to see here, otherwise we would not have brought you. It would not be very amusing to spend all the time in just sitting still, talking to us.”
“I don’t know,” said Mary, rather lazily. “It might not be very amusing, but it is very nice. It is so lovelily warm. But I am not tired now, mayn’t I walk on?”
“I am afraid that to-day,” said one of the Cooies,—which, Mary was not quite sure, as it was sometimes difficult to tell,—“I am afraid—” but just then Mary gave a great start.