CHAPTER IV 22
hearth-rug raking out the cinders noisily. Mary lay and watched her for a few moments and then began to look about the room. She had never seen a room at all like it and thought it curious and gloomy. The walls were covered with tapestry with a forest scene embroidered on it. There were fantastically dressed people under the trees and in the distance there was a glimpse of the turrets of a castle. There were hunters and horses and dogs and ladies. Mary felt as if she were in the forest with them. Out of a deep window she could see a great climbing stretch of land which seemed to have no trees on it, and to look rather like an endless, dull, purplish sea.
" What is that?" she said, pointing out of the window.
Martha, the young housemaid, who had just risen to her feet, looked and pointed also.
" That there?" she said " Yes." " That ' s th ' moor," with a good-natured grin. " Does tha ' like it?" " No," answered Mary. " I hate it."
" That ' s because tha ' rt not used to it," Martha said, going back to her hearth. " Tha ' thinks it ' s too big an ' bare now. But tha ' will like it."
" Do you?" inquired Mary.
" Aye, that I do," answered Martha, cheerfully polishing away at the grate. " I just love it. It ' s none bare. It ' s covered wi ' growin ' things as smells sweet. It ' s fair lovely in spring an ' summer when th ' gorse an ' broom an ' heather ' s in flower. It smells o ' honey an ' there ' s such a lot o ' fresh air--an ' th ' sky looks so high an ' th ' bees an ' skylarks makes such a nice noise hummin ' an ' singin '. Eh! I wouldn ' t live away from th ' moor for anythin '."