ll but she found
that she could print letters when she tried. This was the letter
Martha dictated to her: "My Dear Dickon:

This comes hoping to find you well as it leaves me at present. Miss
Mary has plenty of money and will you go to Thwaite and buy her some
flower seeds and a set of garden tools to make a flower-bed. Pick the
prettiest ones and easy to grow because she has never done it before
and lived in India which is different. Give my love to mother and
every one of you. Miss Mary is going to tell me a lot more so that on
my next day out you can hear about elephants and camels and gentlemen
going hunting lions and tigers.

"Your loving sister,
Martha Phoebe Sowerby."

"We'll put the money in th' envelope an' I'll get th' butcher boy to
take it in his cart. He's a great friend o' Dickon's," said Martha.

"How shall I get the things when Dickon buys them?"

"He'll bring 'em to you himself. He'll like to walk over this way."

"Oh!" exclaimed Mary, "then I shall see him! I never thought I should
see Dickon."

"Does tha' want to see him?" asked Martha suddenly, for Mary had looked
so pleased.

"Yes, I do. I never saw a boy foxes and crows loved. I want to see
him very much."

Martha gave a little start, as if she remembered something. "Now to
think," she broke out, "to think o' me forgettin' that there; an' I
thought I was goin' to tell you first thing this mornin'. I asked
mother--and she said she'd ask Mrs. Medlock her own self."

"Do you mean--" Mary began.

"What I said Tuesday. Ask her if you might be driven over to our
cottage some day and have a bit o' mother's hot oat cake, an' butter,
an' a glass o' milk."

It seemed as if all the interesting things were happening in one day.
To think of going over the moor in the daylight and when the sky was
blue! To think of going into the cottage which held twelve children!

"Does she think Mrs. Medlock would let me go?" she asked, quite
anxiously.

"Aye, she thinks she would. She knows what a tidy woman mother is and
how clean she keeps the cottage."

"If I went I should see your mother as well as Dickon," said Mary,
thinking it over and liking the idea very much. "She doesn't seem to
be like the mothers in India."

Her work in the garden and the excitement of the afternoon ended by
making her feel quiet and thoughtful. Martha stayed with her until
tea-time, but they sat in comfortable quiet an