By the time Mary was nearing the end, the noises outside had quieted down, and her eyelids were starting to feel heavy. “Rama was just about to catch up with Sita and the demon, but then the demon threw down fire and imprisoned him in flames,” she said, yawning. “Luckily, the fire god, Agni, was watching and he parted the flames and carried Rama up into the clouds. After that, the two of them set off, looking—ever looking—for Rama’s love,” she finished.

Blowing out the lantern, Mary sank back on the cushions with Jemima in her arms. Her eyelashes fluttered, and a few seconds later she was asleep.

A damp green lawn . . . flower beds filled with pink, lilac, and blue flowers . . . trees with branches bursting with blossom . . . Mary ran down a path past statues. . . . A grown-up was holding her hand. She was laughing, trying not to fall over, and she felt happy, wonderfully and completely happy. . . .

Slowly, Mary began to wake up. For a moment, she tried to hold on to the familiar dream, but it faded just like it always did. The dream garden looked so different from any garden she had ever known, but it seemed so real to her when she was there and she always felt truly happy in it. With a sigh, she rubbed her eyes. The first thing she noticed was that the shutters were still open and it was very bright outside. Sunlight was flooding in through the window. Mary’s tummy rumbled. Where was her ayah? Why hadn’t she brought her breakfast?

Feeling hungry and cranky, she sat up in her den. “Ayah!” she called loudly. To her surprise, the door didn’t open to reveal her ayah’s kindly face. Feeling even crankier, Mary raised her voice. “Ayah! I’m calling you! It’s late and I’m not even dressed!” Her voice reached shouting pitch. “AYAH!”

Mary waited. Still no one came. What was going on? The house was very quiet. That was peculiar, she realized. Usually, she could hear the servants bustling around. Unease flickered through her as she remembered the strange noises in the night.

“Should . . . should we go and look around and see if we can find anyone, Jemima?” She tried to sound brave, but her voice trembled slightly. “Yes, I think that’s a very good idea,” she went on. “Don’t worry. I’ll look after you. We’ll go and find Daddy, and he shall get Ayah for us.”