emble. "I never liked it in India. It makes me hungry here, and
I am getting fatter."

He was watching her.

"Mrs. Sowerby said it would do you good. Perhaps it will," he said.
"She thought you had better get stronger before you had a governess."

"It makes me feel strong when I play and the wind comes over the moor,"
argued Mary.

"Where do you play?" he asked next.

"Everywhere," gasped Mary. "Martha's mother sent me a skipping-rope. I
skip and run--and I look about to see if things are beginning to stick
up out of the earth. I don't do any harm."

"Don't look so frightened," he said in a worried voice. "You could not
do any harm, a child like you! You may do what you like."

Mary put her hand up to her throat because she was afraid he might see
the excited lump which she felt jump into it. She came a step nearer
to him.

"May I?" she said tremulously.

Her anxious little face seemed to worry him more than ever.

"Don't look so frightened," he exclaimed. "Of course you may. I am
your guardian, though I am a poor one for any child. I cannot give you
time or attention. I am too ill, and wretched and distracted; but I
wish you to be happy and comfortable. I don't know anything about
children, but Mrs. Medlock is to see that you have all you need. I
sent for you to-day because Mrs. Sowerby said I ought to see you. Her
daughter had talked about you. She thought you needed fresh air and
freedom and running about."

"She knows all about children," Mary said again in spite of herself.

"She ought to," said Mr. Craven. "I thought her rather bold to stop me
on the moor, but she said--Mrs. Craven had been kind to her." It seemed
hard for him to speak his dead wife's name. "She is a respectable
woman. Now I have seen you I think she said sensible things. Play out
of doors as much as you like. It's a big place and you may go where
you like and amuse yourself as you like. Is there anything you want?"
as if a sudden thought had struck him. "Do you want toys, books,
dolls?"

"Might I," quavered Mary, "might I have a bit of earth?"

In her eagerness she did not realize how queer the words would sound
and that they were not the ones she had meant to say. Mr. Craven
looked quite startled.

"Earth!" he repeated. "What do you mean?"

"To plant seeds in--to make things grow--to see them come alive," Mary
faltered.

He gazed at her a moment and then passed his hand quickly over his eyes.

"Do