She had begun her voyage of discovery: what was in Mary's head, _what_ would she do next?
What Mary did next was to propose, after tea, that they should travel through other parts of the house.
"We'll be back in a moment," Mary flung over her head to Miss Fortescue.
They proceeded then through passages, peering into dark rooms, looking behind curtains, Barbara following behind her friend, who seemed to be moved by a rather aimless intention of finding something to do that she shouldn't.

They finally arrived at Mrs.Adams's private and particular sitting-room, a place that may be said, in the main, to stand as a protest against the rule of the ancient philosopher, being all pink and flimsy and fragile with precious vases and two post-impressionist pictures (a green apple tree one, the other a brown woman), and lace cushions and blue bowls with rose leaves in them.

Barbara had never been into this room before, nor had she ever in all her seven years seen anything so lovely.
"Mother says I'm never to come in here," announced Mary.

"But I do--lots.

Isn't it pretty ?" "P'r'aps we oughtn't----" began Barbara.
"Oh, yes, we ought," answered Mary scornfully.