She looked at the key quite a long time. She turned itover and over, and thought about it. As I have said before,she was not a child who had been trained to ask permissionor consult her elders about things. All she thought aboutthe key was that if it was the key to the closed garden,and she could find out where the door was, she couldperhaps open it and see what was inside the walls,and what had happened to the old rose-trees. It was becauseit had been shut up so long that she wanted to see it.

　　It seemed as if it must be different from other placesand that something strange must have happened to itduring ten years. Besides that, if she liked it shecould go into it every day and shut the door behind her,and she could make up some play of her own and play itquite alone, because nobody would ever know where she was,but would think the door was still locked and the keyburied in the earth. The thought of that pleased hervery much.

　　Living as it were, all by herself in a house with a hundredmysteriously closed rooms and having nothing whateverto do to amuse herself, had set her inactive brainto working and was actually awakening her imagination.

　　There is no doubt that the fresh, strong, pure air from themoor had a great deal to do with it. Just as it had givenher an appetite, and fighting with the wind had stirredher blood, so the same things had stirred her mind.

　　In India she had always been too hot and languid and weakto care much about anything, but in this place shewas beginning to care and to want to do new things.

　　Already she felt less "contrary," though she did notknow why.

　　She put the key in her pocket and walked up and downher walk. No one but herself ever seemed to come there,so she could walk slowly and look at the wall, or, rather,at the ivy growing on it. The ivy was the baffling thing.

　　Howsoever carefully she looked she could see nothingbut thickly growing, glossy, dark green leaves. She wasvery much disappointed. Something of her contrarinesscame back to her as she paced the walk and looked over itat the tree-tops inside. It seemed so silly, she saidto herself, to be near it and not be able to get in.

　　She took the key in her pocket when she went back tothe house, and she made up her mind that she would alwayscarry it with her when she went out, so that if she evershould find the hidden door she would be ready.

　　Mrs. Medlock had allowed Martha to sleep all night atthe cottage, but she was back at her work in the morningwith cheeks redder than ever and in the best of spirits.

　　"I got up at four o'clock," she said. "Eh! it was pretty on th'

　　moor with th' birds gettin' up an' th' rabbits scamperin'

　　about an' th' sun risin'. I didn't walk all th' way. A mangave me a ride in his cart an' I did enjoy myself."She was full of stories of the delights of her day out.

　　Her mother had been glad to see her and they had got thebaking and washing all out of the way. She had even madeeach of the children a doughcake with a bit of brown sugarin it.

　　"I had 'em all pipin' hot when they came in from playin'

　　on th' moor. An' th' cottage all smelt o' nice, clean hot bakin'

　　an' there was a good fire, an' they just shouted for joy.

　　Our Dickon he said our cottage was good enough for a king."In the evening they had all sat round the fire,and Martha and her mother had sewed patches on tornclothes and mended stockings and Martha had told themabout the little girl who had come from India and who hadbeen waited on all her life by what Martha called "blacks"until she didn't know how to put on her own stockings.

　　"Eh! they did like to hear about you," said Martha.

　　"They wanted to know all about th' blacks an' about th'

　　ship you came in. I couldn't tell 'em enough."Mary reflected a little.

　　"I'll tell you a great deal more before your next day out,"she said, "so that you will have more to talk about.

　　I dare say they would like to hear about riding on elephantsand camels, and about the officers going to hunt tigers.""My word!" cried delighted Martha. "It would set 'emclean off their heads. Would tha' really do that,Miss? It would be same as a wild beast show like we heardthey had in York once.""India is quite different from Yorkshire," Mary said slowly,as she thought the matter over. "I never thought of that.

　　Did Dickon and your mother like to hear you talk about me?""Why, our Dickon's eyes nearly started out o' his head,they got that round," answered Martha. "But mother, she wasput out about your seemin' to be all by yourself like.

　　She said, 'Hasn't Mr. Craven got no governess for her,nor no nurse?' and I said, 'No, he hasn't, though Mrs. Medlocksays he will when he thinks of it, but she says he mayn'tthink of it for two or three years.'""I don't want a governess," said Mary sharply.

　　"But mother says you ought to be learnin' your book by this timean'

　　you ought to have a woman to look after you, an' she says:

　　`Now, Martha, you just think how you'd feel yourself, in a bigplace like that, wanderin' about all alone, an' no mother.

　　You do your best to cheer her up,' she says, an' I said I would."Mary gave her a long, steady look.

　　"You do cheer me up," she said. "I like to hear you talk."Presently Martha went out of the room and came backwith something held in her hands under her apron.

　　"What does tha' think," she said, with a cheerful grin.

　　"I've brought thee a present.""A present!" exclaimed Mistress Mary. How could a cottagefull of fourteen hungry people give any one a present!

　　"A man was drivin' across the moor peddlin'," Martha explained.

　　"An' he stopped his cart at our door. He had pots an'

　　pans an' odds an' ends, but mother had no money to buyanythin'. Just as he was goin' away our 'Lizabeth Ellencalled out, `Mother, he's got skippin'-ropes with red an'

　　blue handles.' An' mother she calls out quite sudden,`Here, stop, mister! How much are they?' An' he says`Tuppence', an' mother she began fumblin' in her pocket an'

　　she says to me, `Martha, tha's brought me thy wages likea good lass, an' I've got four places to put every penny,but I'm just goin' to take tuppence out of it to buythat child a skippin'-rope,' an' she bought one an'

　　here it is."She brought it out from under her apron and exhibitedit quite proudly. It was a strong, slender ropewith a striped red and blue handle at each end,but Mary Lennox had never seen a skipping-rope before.

　　She gazed at it with a mystified expression.

　　"What is it for?" she asked curiously.

　　"For!" cried out Martha. "Does tha' mean that they've notgot skippin'-ropes in India, for all they've got elephantsand tigers and camels! No wonder most of 'em's black.

　　This is what it's for; just watch me."And she ran into the middle of the room and, taking ahandle in each hand, began to skip, and skip, and skip,while Mary turned in her chair to stare at her, and thequeer faces in the old portraits seemed to stare at her,too, and wonder what on earth this common little cottagerhad the impudence to be doing under their very noses.

　　But Martha did not even see them. The in............