t
her one lesson--she was afraid of nothing. Or rather perhaps I should
say she had never learnt that there was anything to be afraid of! And is
there?

CHAPTER III.

OBEYING ORDERS.

"Little girl, thou must thy part fulfil,
If we're to take kindly to ours:
Then pull up the weeds with a will,
And fairies will cherish the flowers."

There was moonlight, though not so much, in the saloon and the
ante-room, too; for though the windows, like those in Griselda's
bed-room, had the shutters closed, there was a round part at the top,
high up, which the shutters did not reach to, and in crept, through
these clear uncovered panes, quite as many moonbeams, you may be sure,
as could find their way.

Griselda, eager though she was, could not help standing still a moment
to admire the effect.

"It looks prettier with the light coming in at those holes at the top
than even if the shutters were open," she said to herself. "How
goldy-silvery the cabinet looks; and, yes, I do declare, the mandarins
are nodding! I wonder if it is out of politeness to me, or does Aunt
Grizzel come in last thing at night and touch them to make them keep
nodding till morning? I _suppose_ they're a sort of policemen to the
palace; and I dare say there are all sorts of beautiful things inside.
How I should like to see all through it!"

But at this moment the faint tick-tick of the cuckoo clock in the next
room, reaching her ear, reminded her of the object of this midnight
expedition of hers. She hurried into the ante-room.

It looked darker than the great saloon, for it had but one window. But
through the uncovered space at the top of this window there penetrated
some brilliant moonbeams, one of which lighted up brightly the face of
the clock with its queer over-hanging eaves.

[Illustration: "WHY WON'T YOU SPEAK TO ME?"]

Griselda approached it and stood below, looking up.

"Cuckoo," she said softly--very softly.

But there was no reply.

"Cuckoo," she repeated rather more loudly. "Why won't you speak to me? I
know you are there, and you're not asleep, for I heard your voice in my
own room. Why won't you come out, cuckoo?"

"Tick-tick" said the clock, but there was no other reply.

Griselda felt ready to cry.

"Cuckoo," she said reproachfully, "I didn't think you were so
hard-hearted. I have been _so_ unhappy about you, and I was so pleased
to hear your voice again, for I thought I had killed you, or hurt y