you forget that!"

It was in this way Mistress Mary arrived at Misselthwaite Manor and she
had perhaps never felt quite so contrary in all her life.

CHAPTER IV

MARTHA

When she opened her eyes in the morning it was because a young
housemaid had come into her room to light the fire and was kneeling on
the 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'."

Mary listened to her with a grave, puzzled expression. The native
servants she had been used to in India were not in the least like this.
They were obsequious and servile and did not presume to talk to their
masters as if they were their equals. They made salaams and called
them "protector of the poor" and names of that sort. Indian servants
were commanded to do things, not asked. It was not the custom to say
"please" and "thank you" and Mary had always slapped her Ayah in the
face when she was angry. She wondered a little what this girl wo