rry, who had
no idea the day was so far gone. She had no watch or means of telling the
time, so she supposed it was all right, and that she had sat crying longer
than she thought. Presently they came to a river, and Cherry wondered how
she should cross it, for it had grown so dark by that time she could not
see stepping-stones, or bridge, or anything.

However, while she was wondering, the gentleman just picked her up in his
arms and carried her across, and then on they walked again. They went
down, down and down a very steep lane now, a lane which got narrower and
narrower, and was so steep and long, Cherry thought it would never end.
Not that she minded much, for she did not feel tired, and the gentleman
had given her his arm, that she might not stumble, and she felt so excited
and happy she could have walked on through the sweet-scented darkness for
ever.

She had not much further to go, though, for presently they came to a gate
which the gentleman opened. "This is your new home, Cherry," he said
kindly, and Cherry found herself suddenly in the most beautiful garden you
can imagine. It was full of lovely flowers and luscious fruits, while
flitting about everywhere, or perching on the trees, were birds of all
sizes and colours, tiny blue birds, large scarlet birds, some that flashed
like silver, and gold, and beaten copper, in the sunlight. For oddly
enough the sun was shining brightly in the garden, though it had long been
dark outside.

Cherry stood and stared about her in open-eyed amazement. "Dear, dear,"
she thought to herself, "'tis just like the fairy-tales Gammer tells us
winter evenings!" and she began to wonder if she could have got into an
enchanted place, and if she should presently see fairies, or enchanted
people there. But no, it could not be any fairy-tale, for there was her
new master standing by her as big as Farmer Chenoweth, and down the path
came running a little boy, calling "Papa! papa!" just as any ordinary
mortal child would.

Though, as Cherry said afterwards, there was something uncanny about the
child, for he had such an odd, old face and expression, and eyes as
cunning as might be, and so bright and piercing they seemed to look you
through and through; yet he appeared to be no more than four years old.

Before the child could reach them, an old woman came running out after
him, and seizing him by the arm dragged him roughly back to the house.
She was a bony, ill-tempered looki