want you to think I really meananything. It is just a tiny bit of an idea that I have got leave to putinto your head."
"Leave--got leave," Mary repeated. "Whom have you got leave from?"
"This place does not all belong to us," was the reply. "You saw by thesign of the grey feather that I had to get leave to bring you in here.And that is all I can say--at present, any way."
"But it does mean," Mary persisted, "it must mean that this isfairy-land?"
"No," said Mr Coo, "that does not follow. You don't need to be in thesun to feel the good of its light and warmth."
"Certainly not," said Mary, laughing. "There wouldn't be much left ofus in the sun. We'd be frizzled up in a moment, of course, before onecould say `tic,' wouldn't one?"
"Most likely," replied Mr Coo.
"But still--even if this isn't fairy-land, it might be close to it?" shewent on.
"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 upsometimes. "I promise you you are not far wrong, very far from farwrong indeed, if you do think so."
Mary felt very pleased and quite ready to go on with her questions. Shelooked about her to settle what to ask next.
"Please tell me," she said, "what are all those lots and lots of littlearbours opening out of this very big one, and may I run about and peepinto them?"
"One question at a time, if you've no objection," said the pigeon on herright hand again. "The small bowers are arranged for separate familieswhen we have our great assemblies. We do everything in a very orderlyway. As for looking into them, you may certainly do so--there is agreat 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 sittingstill, talking to us."
"I don't know," said Mary, rather lazily. "It might not be veryamusing, but it is very _nice_. It is so lovelily warm. But I am nottired now, mayn't I walk on?"
"I am afraid that to-day," said one of the Cooies,--which, Mary was notquite sure, as it was sometimes difficult to tell,--"I am afraid--" butjust then Mary gave a great start.
"Oh," she exclaimed, "I believe that's the bell; the four o'clock bellthat Pleasance was to ring for me. I must go. It will take me a goodwhile to get home," and she looked rather distressed.
"No, it won't. We will show you a short-cut," said both the Cooiestogether. This time she had no doubt that both were speaking. "Do notbe afraid. We knew it was about time for you to go home, and we werejust going to tell you so when you heard the bell. This is only a firstvisit, to teach you the way, as it were."
"Then may I come again very soon, and see all over, and peep into allthe little arbours and everything?" asked Mary, her spirits risingagain.
"Of course you may. It will be all arranged, you will see," said MrCoo. "There are plans which we will tell you about, all in good time.But you may stay a few minutes longer. Pleasance will not expect youback the very moment she has rung for you."
And Mary was pleased to lean back in her mossy chair for a little bit.
"It is the warm feeling that is so nice here," she said presently."Just right--neither too hot nor too cold. I don't mind its being alittle cold, now the winter is coming, of course. Out-of-doors one canrun, and in the house Pleasance says my godmother is sure to give me afire in my own room as soon as I like, so I daresay I shall be warmereven than at auntie's house. But it _is_ nice to have the summeryfeeling back again."
"Coo-coo," the wood-pigeons replied, which meant that they quite agreedwith her.
"Is it always mild and warm in this funny place?" Mary went on.
"Always, just as you feel it," said Mr Coo.
"How nice!" said Mary. "I don't wonder you removed to the forest fromthe Square gardens. Yet you never seemed cold there. I used to watchyou last spring, soon after the winter, before it had begun to get warm,you know, and wish I was dressed in feathers like you. That was beforeI knew you, or had learnt to talk to you. It _is_ cold in the nurseryearly in the morning sometimes, if the fire hasn't burnt up well, andthe little ones sit at the warm side of the table, you see. I shalllove to come back here again," she went on. "You'll _promise_ to settleabout it soon, won't you? I do so want to see everything you can showme."
"We won't forget," was the reply. "But it is time for you to be going.Lean back a little more."
Mary did so, though wondering why, for she was quite getting into theway of obeying her little friends without hesitation.
And to her surprise she felt that the chair, which had seemed almost asif growing out of the ground, tilted back with her, though gently, as ifon rockers. Then it swung forwards again, though gently still, andended by very politely, so to say, though decidedly, turning her out.The surprise, it was all too gentle to make her start, confused her alittle. Afterwards she felt almost sure that she must have shut hereyes for half a second, for the next thing she knew, she was standingquite steadily just on the forest-side of the small wicket-gate throughwhich one entered into the garden of Dove's Nest.
"Dear me, Cooies," exclaimed Mary, "that _was_ a short-cut. _Now_, youcan never say you are not."
But before she had time to add "fairies," she found she was talking tothe air, or at any rate not to the wood-pigeons, for they haddisappeared.
Mary almost laughed, though she felt a tiny bit provoked too.
"They do treat me _rather_ too babyishly," she thought. "They mightexplain what they are going to do, a little more. But then, after all,in fairy stories they never do, and I am now quite sure that I _am_ in asort of fairy story--that is to say in all to do with the Cooies. If itwas the night I should think I was dreaming; but it isn't the night, andI am very glad of it. It is much nicer to have really to do withfairies."
And she ran across the lawn in good spirits, not sorry to have missedthe chilly walk through the wood.
"It couldn't but have felt cold after that deliciously warm place," shethought to herself. "Perhaps that is why they brought me home in thatmagic way. They wouldn't like me to get a sore throat, or a sneezingcold, or any of these horrible things. Yes, I may be quite sure theyare very, very kind fairies, whatever sort they are exactly."
Pleasance was in the hall as Mary came in. She looked up brightly.
"Well, you have come home punctually, Miss Mary," she said. "I supposeyou heard the bell quite distinctly?"
"Quite," said Mary, "both times."
"That is very nice," said the maid. "Now we can feel quite comfortableabout you when you are amusing yourself in the forest. And you don'tfeel chilly, I hope, Miss? It would never do for you to catch coldwhile you are with us."
"No, indeed," said Mary, smiling. "I shouldn't like it at all. But youneedn't be afraid. It felt _quite_ warm in--the forest. At least afterthe first it did. Shall I get ready for tea now? I suppose godmotherwill be home soon."
"Sure to be so," replied Pleasance. "My lady is always punctual.Indeed I thought I heard the ponies' bells in the distance just beforeyou came in. It will be nice for Miss Verity to find you back and readyto welcome her."
CHAPTER NINE.
"THAT MEANS GOOD LUCK, I AM SURE."
Pleasance's last words were Miss Verity's first ones.
"It _is_ nice to find you back," she said to Mary, as she drove up, witha cheery ting-ting from the ponies' bells. "And I hope tea is quiteready, for I have had rather a cold drive," she added, as she got out.
"Yes, yes, godmother, dear," said Mary, who was standing in the porch."I'm sure it is. And I'm so glad I was here just a few minutes beforeyou."
"I can see you managed to amuse yourself in the forest," said MissVerity, when she had taken off her wraps and they were sitting togetherin the drawing-room, the tea-table in its "winter place" near the fire."You are looking so rosy and bright."
"I di
d enjoy myself very much indeed," said Mary.
"I thought you would; indeed I knew you would," her godmother said. Butshe did not ask any questions, and there was rather a dreamy tone in hervoice and a look in her eyes as she leant back in her chair and gazedinto the fire, which made Mary again think to herself, as she hadthought several times already, that "godmother herself knows somethingabout the fairy secrets