Would they come back for her? The children’s voices and footsteps grew fainter and fainter, till at last they died quite away in the distance, and the robin¹ began singing again on the branch over her head. Presently the little bird caught sight of Dolly, and flew down and looked at her with his bright eyes, and then a tiny field-mouse ran round and over her with her little light paws—which must have tickled², but still Dolly never moved, and a wise old beetle³ came out of his hole, and twiddled his long whiskers as he peered at her curiously⁴.

 

“Sweet! sweet!” said the robin. “Who is she?”

 

“Twee! twee!” whispered the mouse. “I don’t know!”

 

“Hum, hu-um!” buzzed the beetle. “Why doesn’t she speak?”

 

But Dolly didn’t say a word!

 

Now, eventide came, and the sun grew tired, and put himself to bed under a crimson-and-gold counterpane. The robin found a comfortable twig⁵ on which to perch⁶, and tucked his head under his wing. The mouse went home to her babies, of whom she had six—all packed warm and tight in a neat little nest hung on to a cornstalk in the next field. And the beetle spread his shining wings and went for a fly round before he, too, rolled himself in a roseleaf blanket and went to sleep! But Dolly never closed her eyes!

 

Then the great stars lit their lamps, and looked down at her through the fern-fronds, but if they said anything no one heard them—they were too far off!

 

“Dolly, dear Dolly, where are you?” cried a little voice, and little footsteps came pressing through the tall bracken fern.

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