"Well, if tha' doesn't go out tha'lt have to stay in, an' what has tha'
got to do?"

Mary glanced about her. There was nothing to do. When Mrs. Medlock had
prepared the nursery she had not thought of amusement. Perhaps it would
be better to go and see what the gardens were like.

"Who will go with me?" she inquired.

Martha stared.

"You'll go by yourself," she answered. "You'll have to learn to play
like other children does when they haven't got sisters and brothers. Our
Dickon goes off on th' moor by himself an' plays for hours. That's how
he made friends with th' pony. He's got sheep on th' moor that knows
him, an' birds as comes an' eats out of his hand. However little there
is to eat, he always saves a bit o' his bread to coax his pets."

It was really this mention of Dickon which made Mary decide to go out,
though she was not aware of it. There would be birds outside though
there would not be ponies or sheep. They would be different from the
birds in India and it might amuse her to look at them.

Martha found her coat and hat for her and a pair of stout little boots
and she showed her her way down-stairs.

"If tha' goes round that way tha'll come to th' gardens," she said,
pointing to a gate in a wall of shrubbery. "There's lots o' flowers in
summer-time, but there's nothin' bloomin' now." She seemed to hesitate a
second before she added, "One of th' gardens is locked up. No one has