CHAPTER VII 51
would. You ' re one that needs some one to look sharp after you. I ' ve got enough to do."
She went out of the room and slammed the door after her, and Mary went and sat on the hearth-rug, pale with rage. She did not cry, but ground her teeth.
" There was some one crying--there _ was _--there was!" she said to herself.
She had heard it twice now, and sometime she would find out. She had found out a great deal this morning. She felt as if she had been on a long journey, and at any rate she had had something to amuse her all the time, and she had played with the ivory elephants and had seen the gray mouse and its babies in their nest in the velvet cushion.
CHAPTER VII
THE KEY OF THE GARDEN
Two days after this, when Mary opened her eyes she sat upright in bed immediately, and called to Martha.
" Look at the moor! Look at the moor!"
The rain-storm had ended and the gray mist and clouds had been swept away in the night by the wind. The wind itself had ceased and a brilliant, deep blue sky arched high over the moorland. Never, never had Mary dreamed of a sky so blue. In India skies were hot and blazing; this was of a deep cool blue which almost seemed to sparkle like the waters of some lovely bottomless lake, and here and there, high, high in the arched blueness floated small clouds of snow-white fleece. The far-reaching world of the moor itself looked softly blue instead of gloomy purple-black or awful dreary gray.
" Aye," said Martha with a cheerful grin. " Th ' storm ' s over for a bit. It does like this at this time o ' th ' year. It goes off in a night like it was pretendin ' it