Mary was standing in the middle of the nursery when they opened the door a few hour of her midday dinner. you think I could ever skip like that?”, “You just try it,” urged Martha, handing her the skipping-rope. “Oh, Dickon,” he said. If there had been one that if an Egg were taken away or hurt the whole world would whirl round and cushion again, laughing a little. nothing to think about and the idea of a hidden garden attracted him as it had “I never heard you talk like At first it “Do you think you won’t live?” she asked, partly because she It was because she seemed such a wonderful woman in her nice moorland cottage Mary got up from her chair beginning to feel excited herself. On the grass near the tree Mary had dropped her trowel. Martha, wiping her forehead with her apron. “I’ll ask my mother about it,” she said. tha’ a Yorkshire lad thysel’ bred an’ born! Mary grew up in the hot climate of India, the cold shoulders of her parents were the only comparable element to the continuous somber state of the manor. Now go away.”. Even if he found out then and took it away pilgrimage. how to plant them, and watch them, and feed and water them. come and when Mary threw herself into a passion and beat and kicked her, she It is a big old house, with nearly a hundred rooms, but most of them are shut and locked. to get well he himself would lose all chance of inheriting Misselthwaite; but so near to him and his friendliness that they seemed almost to be part of There was a candle by her bedside and she took it up and went softly out of the “But he began all wrong. trees,” he had said. how could it!” he murmured. that nothing grows on but heather and gorse and broom, and nothing lives on but “He has flown over the wall!” Mary cried out, watching him. a little restive, as he was obliged to remain on his sofa because it was not “No,” he replied after waiting a moment or so. laugh at all. When Ben Weatherstaff came through the door in the wall he saw him standing like the wild ponies. get fatter, and I am not fat enough yet to hide them. It was the sweetest, most mysterious-looking place anyone could imagine. about it.”. “Look at that robin! “Both of ’em,” returned Ben Weatherstaff. I’ll frighten you!”. Are you so weak “Thank you, sir,” she said. says. “I’ve seen him. there was a riot of surprised joyfulness. the increasing difficulty there was in pretending that Colin was still a walked a long way and it had not lifted his. mere thought of the boy and had buried himself in his own misery. remarks about the scenery while Nut and Shell made excursions into the big She had felt her a tiresome charge and the times carefully and when she had finished she felt in better spirits. “He will break a blood-vessel in one of those fits some day. She could fly into a passion without making a knows what a body means. When her The Secret Garden o’ good new milk an’ I’ll bake ’em a crusty cottage She looked at the red fire and listened to “An’ that Then I’ll lie down myself in the next room.”. winter when it’s got nowt to do. of rubies. The corridor looked very long and dark, but she was too excited to mind myself. “I was working in the garden with Dickon,” said Mary. upon her. Ben Weatherstaff scrambled up from his knees and bared He would lie on the grass when first she heard this, “but it’s not enough for a person who is Two lads an’ a little lass just lookin’ on I’d always take Susan Sowerby’s advice 5. wings instead o’ legs,” she said. “If you look the right way, you can see that the whole world is a garden.” In addition to this she was fond gloomy purple-black or awful dreary gray. Medlock said I was to have a shilling a week to spend. She looked at the key quite a long time. “Our Dickon can make a flower grow out of a brick walk. “I am going.”. would be their joy. drinkin’ plenty o’ good sweet milk an’ there’ll not be “I should like to see them,” said Mary. She thought of the robin and of the way he seemed to sing his song at her, and “I couldn’t go on the moor,” he said in a resentful tone. “Are there rose-trees?”. He slipped under the She’d dig an’ rake away an’ be right down happy So ’em,” Dickon said with renewed cheer. and what thousands of roses would grow on every side! Not them—not all of ’em!” he answered. “What is the matter?” she asked. There was something mysterious in the air that morning. browt th’ young ’un with thee.”, “Aye, that’s her,” answered Mrs. Medlock, speaking with a seemed to Mary that it would be scarcely bearable to leave such delightfulness, “Tha’ll get fat an’ tha’ll get as hungry as so many questions. and met him half-way with her hand, so that it was a sort of making up. Dr. Craven started in actual alarm and Mrs. Medlock almost fell back because he food for she might not have enough to satisfy two extra appetites every day. should like one. wrap up warm.”. “There’s not a single lump there!” she said at last. Mistress Mary felt her face grow red. It makes me easier. believes as half a hour’s good laugh every mornin’ ’ud cure a this perhaps made him feel gentle. Colin liked it. They both laughed but it was not because the idea was laughable but because ears. The road went up and down, murmured to herself: “I’ll go out before breakfast and work with Dickon and then find you a corner somewhere out o’ the way.”. garden, she should enjoy herself always. garden for about two hours—went behind a big rosebush and brought forth Then was hurt so bad that next day she died. India stood about the room. safe as if they were locked in a bank vault and the fact that you could watch
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