The Secret Garden

tched her for a few moments and then began to look about the room. She had never seen a room at all like it and thought it curious and gloomy. The walls were covered with tapestry with a forest sc

she could see a great climbing stretch of land which seemed to have n

he said, pointing

just risen to her feet, looked and

es

th a good-natured gri

red Mary. "

said, going back to her hearth. "Tha' thinks it

" inquir

sweet. It's fair lovely in spring an' summer when th' gorse an' broom an' heather's in flower. It smells o' honey an' there's such a lot o' fresh air-

ams and called them "protector of the poor" and names of that sort. Indian servants were commanded to do things, not asked. It was not the custom to say "please" and "thank you" and Mary had always slapped her Ayah in the face when she was angry. She wondered

nt," she said from her p

acking-brush in her hand, and laughed,

lk too much Yorkshire. But this is a funny house for all it's so grand. Seems like there's neither Master nor Mistress except Mr. Pitcher an' Mrs. Medlock. Mr. Craven, he won't be troubled about anythin' when he's here, an' he's nearly a

to rub her

Mr. Craven's-but I'm to do the housemaid's work up here a

to dress me?"

in and stared. She spoke in br

dress thyse

don't understand your

'd have to be careful or you wouldn't know what I wa

nantly. "I never did in my life.

gin younger. It'll do thee good to wait on thysen a bit. My mother always said she couldn't see why grand people's childr

id Mistress Mary disdainfully.

was not at

ay it's because there's such a lot o' blacks there instead o' respectable whit

up in bed

ou thought I was a native.

ared and

e always very religious. You always read as a black's a man an' a brother. I've never seen a black an' I was fair pleased to think I was goin' to see one close. When I come in to ligh

You dared! You don't know anything about natives! They are not people-they're servants

verything she understood and which understood her, that she threw herself face downward on the pillows and burst into passionate sobbing. She so

sure. I didn't know you'd be vexed. I don't know anythin' about an

rkshire speech and sturdy way which had a good effect on Mary. She

an' dinner into th' room next to this. It's been made into a nursery for thee. I'll help thee on with t

a took from the wardrobe were not the ones she had wor

ine," she said.

wool coat and dress over, a

e nicer t

't have a child dressed in black wanderin' about like a lost soul,' he said. 'It'd make the place sadder than it is. Put colo

ck things,"

her little sisters and brothers but she had never seen a child who stood still and waite

own shoes?" she said when Ma

swered Mary, staring

f one told them to do a thing their ancestors had not done for a thousand years they gazed

her own shoes and stockings, and picking up things she let fall. If Martha had been a well-trained fine young lady's maid she would have been more subservient and respectful and would have known that it was her business to brush hair, and button boots, and pick things up and lay them away. She was, howev

alk, but Mary only listened to her coldly and wondered at her freedom of manner. At first she was not at all interes

to it to get porridge for 'em all. They tumble about on th' moor an' play there all day an' mother says th' air of th' moor fattens 'em. She s

he get it?"

with it an' give it bits o' bread an' pluck young grass for it. And it got to like him so it

ealthy sentiment. When she went into the room which had been made into a nursery for her, she found that it was rather like the one she had slept in. It was not a child's room, but a grown-up person's room, with gloomy old pictures on th

want it,"

y porridge!" Martha e

N

it is. Put a bit o' treacl

nt it," rep

victuals go to waste. If our children was at t

use they scarce ever had their stomachs full in thei

be hungry," said Mary, with

ooked in

"I've no patience with folk as sits an' just stares at good bread an' meat. My word! don't

ake it to them?"

day out. I get my day out once a month same as th' rest. Then

and ate a little toa

you," said Martha. "It'll do you good a

gardens and paths and big trees, b

s?" "Well, if tha' doesn't go out tha'lt ha

ck had prepared the nursery she had not thought of amusement. Pe

with me?" s

ha s

ur Dickon goes off on th' moor by himself an' plays for hours. That's how he made friends with th' pony. He's got sheep on th' moor that kn

ot aware of it. There would be, birds outside though there would not be ponies or sheep

r and a pair of stout little boots a

rubbery. "There's lots o' flowers in summer-time, but there's nothin' bloomin' now." She seemed to hes

f. Here was another locked door adde

o one go inside. It was her garden. He locked th' door an' dug a hol

rs still alive in it. When she had passed through the shrubbery gate she found herself in great gardens, with wide lawns and winding walks with clipped borders. There were trees, and flower-beds, and evergreens clipped into strange shapes, a

was not familiar enough with England to know that she was coming upon the kitchen-gardens where the vegetables and fruit were growing. She went toward

r open green door, revealing bushes and pathways between beds containing winter vegetables. Fruit-trees were trained flat against the wall, and over some of the beds there were glass fr

when he saw Mary, and then touched his cap. He had a surly old face, and did not seem at all pleased to see her-but then she

his place?

tchen-gardens,

Mary, pointing throug

ther on t'other side o' th' wall an' th

in them?"

s. But there'

ped the door would not open because she wanted to be sure she had found the mysterious garden-but it did open quite easily and she walked through it and found herself in an orchard. There were walls all round it also and trees trained against them, and there were bare fruit-trees growing in the winter-browned grass-but there was no green door to be seen anywhere. Mary looked for it, and yet when she had entered the up

no one left in the world but herself. If she had been an affectionate child, who had been used to being loved, she would have broken her heart, but even though she was "Mistress Mary Quite Contrary" she was desolate, and the bright-breasted little bird brough

bald Craven buried the key? If he had liked his wife so much why did he hate her garden? She wondered if she should ever see him, but she knew that if she did she should not like hi

ht. "And I never can talk as the Crawford children could.

ing his song at her, and as she remembered the tree-to

n-I feel sure it was," she said. "There was

man digging there. She went and stood beside him and watched him a few moments i

to the other ga

to prevent thee," h

into the

t th' door to bite

there into the othe

a rough voice, stopping

Mary. "There are trees there-I saw the tops of them. A bird

smile spread over it and the gardener looked quite different. It made her think that it wa

ould make such a coaxing sound. Almost the next moment a wonderful thing happened. She heard a soft little rushing flight through the air-

n, and then he spoke to the bird

id. "I've not seen thee before today. Has tha, begun th

not the least afraid. He hopped about and pecked the earth briskly, looking for seeds and insects. It actually gave Mary a queer feeling in her

en you call him?" she a

rden an' when first he flew over th' wall he was too weak to fly back for a few days an' we got friendly.

a bird is he

live. They're almost as friendly as dogs-if you know how to get on with 'em. Watch him pec

d fellow. He looked at the plump little scarlet-wais

ere never was his like for curiosity an' meddlin'. He's always comin' to see what I'm plantin'. He k

ought his black dewdrop eyes gazed at her with great curiosity. It really seemed as if he were finding out a

st an' make 'em fly an' they're scattered before you know

p nearer to the robin an

nely,"

hich made her feel sour and cross. She seemed to find it o

cap back on his bald head

ttle wench from

nod

nely. Tha'lt be lonlier b

eep into the rich black garden soil while

ur name?" M

up to a

chuckle, "I'm lonely mysel' except when he's with me," and he je

y. "I never had. My Ayah didn't like

think with blunt frankness, and old Be

me cloth. We're neither of us good lookin' an' we're both of us as sour

whatever you did. She had never thought much about her looks, but she wondered if she was as unattractive as Ben Weatherstaff and she also wondered

s standing a few feet from a young apple-tree and the robin had flown on to one of its

do that for

ds with thee," replied Ben. "Dang me

e moved toward the little

" And she did not say it either in her hard little voice or in her imperious Indian voice, but in a tone so

tha' was a real child instead of a sharp old woman. Tha' said

Mary asked, turning ro

ckberries an' heather-bells knows him. I warrant th' foxes shows him wh

as about the deserted garden. But just that moment the robin, who had ended his song, gave a litt

him. "He has flown into the orchard-he has flown across

there. If he's courtin', he's makin' up to some young ma

id Mary. "Are th

ok up his spade aga

en year' ago

d Mary. "Where is the green door

oked as uncompanionable as he h

r' ago, but there

one's business. Don't you be a meddlesome wench an' poke your nose where it's no cause

spade over his shoulder and walked off, wit