wohnzimmer ideen mit grauem sofa

chapter vi"there was some one crying--there was!" the next day the rain poured down intorrents again, and when mary looked out of her window the moor was almost hidden bygray mist and cloud. there could be no going out today. "what do you do in your cottage when itrains like this?" she asked martha. "try to keep from under each other's feetmostly," martha answered. "eh! there does seem a lot of us then. mother's a good-tempered woman but she getsfair moithered. the biggest ones goes out in th' cow-shedand plays there.

dickon he doesn't mind th' wet. he goes out just th' same as if th' sun wasshinin'. he says he sees things on rainy days asdoesn't show when it's fair weather. he once found a little fox cub half drownedin its hole and he brought it home in th' bosom of his shirt to keep it warm. its mother had been killed nearby an' th'hole was swum out an' th' rest o' th' litter was dead.he's got it at home now. he found a half-drowned young crow anothertime an' he brought it home, too, an' tamed it.

it's named soot because it's so black, an'it hops an' flies about with him everywhere."the time had come when mary had forgotten to resent martha's familiar talk. she had even begun to find it interestingand to be sorry when she stopped or went away. the stories she had been told by her ayahwhen she lived in india had been quite unlike those martha had to tell about themoorland cottage which held fourteen people who lived in four little rooms and neverhad quite enough to eat. the children seemed to tumble about andamuse themselves like a litter of rough,

good-natured collie puppies. mary was most attracted by the mother anddickon. when martha told stories of what "mother"said or did they always sounded comfortable. "if i had a raven or a fox cub i could playwith it," said mary. "but i have nothing."martha looked perplexed. "can tha' knit?" she asked. "no," answered mary."can tha' sew?" "no.""can tha' read?"

"yes." "then why doesn't tha, read somethin', orlearn a bit o' spellin'? tha'st old enough to be learnin' thy book agood bit now." "i haven't any books," said mary. "those i had were left in india.""that's a pity," said martha. "if mrs. medlock'd let thee go into th'library, there's thousands o' books there." mary did not ask where the library was,because she was suddenly inspired by a new idea.she made up her mind to go and find it herself.

she was not troubled about mrs. medlock.mrs. medlock seemed always to be in her comfortable housekeeper's sitting-roomdownstairs. in this queer place one scarcely ever sawany one at all. in fact, there was no one to see but theservants, and when their master was away they lived a luxurious life below stairs,where there was a huge kitchen hung about with shining brass and pewter, and a large servants' hall where there were four orfive abundant meals eaten every day, and where a great deal of lively romping wenton when mrs. medlock was out of the way. mary's meals were served regularly, andmartha waited on her, but no one troubled

themselves about her in the least. mrs. medlock came and looked at her everyday or two, but no one inquired what she did or told her what to do.she supposed that perhaps this was the english way of treating children. in india she had always been attended byher ayah, who had followed her about and waited on her, hand and foot.she had often been tired of her company. now she was followed by nobody and waslearning to dress herself because martha looked as though she thought she was sillyand stupid when she wanted to have things handed to her and put on.

"hasn't tha' got good sense?" she saidonce, when mary had stood waiting for her to put on her gloves for her."our susan ann is twice as sharp as thee an' she's only four year' old. sometimes tha' looks fair soft in th'head." mary had worn her contrary scowl for anhour after that, but it made her think several entirely new things. she stood at the window for about tenminutes this morning after martha had swept up the hearth for the last time and gonedownstairs. she was thinking over the new idea whichhad come to her when she heard of the

library. she did not care very much about thelibrary itself, because she had read very few books; but to hear of it brought backto her mind the hundred rooms with closed doors. she wondered if they were all really lockedand what she would find if she could get into any of them.were there a hundred really? why shouldn't she go and see how many doorsshe could count? it would be something to do on this morningwhen she could not go out. she had never been taught to ask permissionto do things, and she knew nothing at all

about authority, so she would not havethought it necessary to ask mrs. medlock if she might walk about the house, even if shehad seen her. she opened the door of the room and wentinto the corridor, and then she began her wanderings. it was a long corridor and it branched intoother corridors and it led her up short flights of steps which mounted to othersagain. there were doors and doors, and there werepictures on the walls. sometimes they were pictures of dark,curious landscapes, but oftenest they were portraits of men and women in queer, grandcostumes made of satin and velvet.

she found herself in one long gallery whosewalls were covered with these portraits. she had never thought there could be somany in any house. she walked slowly down this place andstared at the faces which also seemed to stare at her. she felt as if they were wondering what alittle girl from india was doing in their house. some were pictures of children--littlegirls in thick satin frocks which reached to their feet and stood out about them, andboys with puffed sleeves and lace collars and long hair, or with big ruffs aroundtheir necks.

she always stopped to look at the children,and wonder what their names were, and where they had gone, and why they wore such oddclothes. there was a stiff, plain little girl ratherlike herself. she wore a green brocade dress and held agreen parrot on her finger. her eyes had a sharp, curious look. "where do you live now?" said mary aloud toher. "i wish you were here."surely no other little girl ever spent such a queer morning. it seemed as if there was no one in all thehuge rambling house but her own small self,

wandering about upstairs and down, throughnarrow passages and wide ones, where it seemed to her that no one but herself hadever walked. since so many rooms had been built, peoplemust have lived in them, but it all seemed so empty that she could not quite believeit true. it was not until she climbed to the secondfloor that she thought of turning the handle of a door. all the doors were shut, as mrs. medlockhad said they were, but at last she put her hand on the handle of one of them andturned it. she was almost frightened for a moment whenshe felt that it turned without difficulty

and that when she pushed upon the dooritself it slowly and heavily opened. it was a massive door and opened into a bigbedroom. there were embroidered hangings on thewall, and inlaid furniture such as she had seen in india stood about the room. a broad window with leaded panes looked outupon the moor; and over the mantel was another portrait of the stiff, plain littlegirl who seemed to stare at her more curiously than ever. "perhaps she slept here once," said mary."she stares at me so that she makes me feel queer."after that she opened more doors and more.

she saw so many rooms that she became quitetired and began to think that there must be a hundred, though she had not counted them. in all of them there were old pictures orold tapestries with strange scenes worked on them.there were curious pieces of furniture and curious ornaments in nearly all of them. in one room, which looked like a lady'ssitting-room, the hangings were all embroidered velvet, and in a cabinet wereabout a hundred little elephants made of ivory. they were of different sizes, and some hadtheir mahouts or palanquins on their backs.

some were much bigger than the others andsome were so tiny that they seemed only babies. mary had seen carved ivory in india and sheknew all about elephants. she opened the door of the cabinet andstood on a footstool and played with these for quite a long time. when she got tired she set the elephants inorder and shut the door of the cabinet. in all her wanderings through the longcorridors and the empty rooms, she had seen nothing alive; but in this room she sawsomething. just after she had closed the cabinet doorshe heard a tiny rustling sound.

it made her jump and look around at thesofa by the fireplace, from which it seemed to come. in the corner of the sofa there was acushion, and in the velvet which covered it there was a hole, and out of the holepeeped a tiny head with a pair of frightened eyes in it. mary crept softly across the room to look.the bright eyes belonged to a little gray mouse, and the mouse had eaten a hole intothe cushion and made a comfortable nest there. six baby mice were cuddled up asleep nearher.

if there was no one else alive in thehundred rooms there were seven mice who did not look lonely at all. "if they wouldn't be so frightened i wouldtake them back with me," said mary. she had wandered about long enough to feeltoo tired to wander any farther, and she turned back. two or three times she lost her way byturning down the wrong corridor and was obliged to ramble up and down until shefound the right one; but at last she reached her own floor again, though she was some distance from her own room and did notknow exactly where she was.

"i believe i have taken a wrong turningagain," she said, standing still at what seemed the end of a short passage withtapestry on the wall. "i don't know which way to go. how still everything is!"it was while she was standing here and just after she had said this that the stillnesswas broken by a sound. it was another cry, but not quite like theone she had heard last night; it was only a short one, a fretful childish whine muffledby passing through walls. "it's nearer than it was," said mary, herheart beating rather faster. "and it is crying."

she put her hand accidentally upon thetapestry near her, and then sprang back, feeling quite startled. the tapestry was the covering of a doorwhich fell open and showed her that there was another part of the corridor behind it,and mrs. medlock was coming up it with her bunch of keys in her hand and a very crosslook on her face. "what are you doing here?" she said, andshe took mary by the arm and pulled her "what did i tell you?""i turned round the wrong corner," explained mary."i didn't know which way to go and i heard some one crying."

she quite hated mrs. medlock at the moment,but she hated her more the next. "you didn't hear anything of the sort,"said the housekeeper. "you come along back to your own nursery ori'll box your ears." and she took her by the arm and halfpushed, half pulled her up one passage and down another until she pushed her in at thedoor of her own room. "now," she said, "you stay where you'retold to stay or you'll find yourself locked up.the master had better get you a governess, same as he said he would. you're one that needs some one to looksharp after you.

i've got enough to do." she went out of the room and slammed thedoor 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 sometimeshe would find out. she had found out a great deal thismorning. she felt as if she had been on a longjourney, and at any rate she had had something to amuse her all the time, andshe had played with the ivory elephants and had seen the gray mouse and its babies intheir nest in the velvet cushion.

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