Thesunshonedownfornearlyaweekonthesecretgarden. TheSecretGardenwaswhatMarycalleditwhenshewasthinkingofit. Shelikedthename,andshelikedstillmorethefeelingthatwhenitsbeautifuloldwallsshutherinnooneknewwhereshewas. Itseemedalmostlikebeingshutoutoftheworldinsomefairyplace. Thefewbooksshehadreadandlikedhadbeenfairy-storybooks,andshehadreadofsecretgardensinsomeofthestories. Sometimespeoplewenttosleepinthemforahundredyears,whichshehadthoughtmustberatherstupid. Shehadnointentionofgoingtosleep,and,infact,shewasbecomingwiderawakeeverydaywhichpassedatMisselthwaite. Shewasbeginningtoliketobeoutofdoors;shenolongerhatedthewind,butenjoyedit. Shecouldrunfaster,andlonger,andshecouldskipuptoahundred. Thebulbsinthesecretgardenmusthavebeenmuchastonished. Suchniceclearplacesweremaderoundthemthattheyhadallthebreathingspacetheywanted,andreally,ifMistressMaryhadknownit,theybegantocheerupunderthedarkearthandworktremendously. Thesuncouldgetatthemandwarmthem,andwhentheraincamedownitcouldreachthematonce,sotheybegantofeelverymuchalive. Marywasanodd,determinedlittleperson,andnowshehadsomethinginterestingtobedeterminedabout,shewasverymuchabsorbed,indeed. Sheworkedanddugandpulledupweedssteadily,onlybecomingmorepleasedwithherworkeveryhourinsteadoftiringofit. Itseemedtoherlikeafascinatingsortofplay. Shefoundmanymoreofthesproutingpalegreenpointsthanshehadeverhopedtofind. Theyseemedtobestartingupeverywhereandeachdayshewassureshefoundtinynewones,somesotinythattheybarelypeepedabovetheearth. ThereweresomanythatsherememberedwhatMarthahadsaidaboutthe“snowdropsbythethousands,”andaboutbulbsspreadingandmakingnewones. Thesehadbeenlefttothemselvesfortenyearsandperhapstheyhadspread,likethesnowdrops,intothousands. Shewonderedhowlongitwouldbebeforetheyshowedthattheywereflowers. Sometimesshestoppeddiggingtolookatthegardenandtrytoimaginewhatitwouldbelikewhenitwascoveredwiththousandsoflovelythingsinbloom. Duringthatweekofsunshine,shebecamemoreintimatewithBenWeatherstaff. Shesurprisedhimseveraltimesbyseemingtostartupbesidehimasifshesprangoutoftheearth. Thetruthwasthatshewasafraidthathewouldpickuphistoolsandgoawayifhesawhercoming,soshealwayswalkedtowardhimassilentlyaspossible. But,infact,hedidnotobjecttoherasstronglyashehadatfirst. Perhapshewassecretlyratherflatteredbyherevidentdesireforhiselderlycompany. Then,also,shewasmorecivilthanshehadbeen. Hedidnotknowthatwhenshefirstsawhimshespoketohimasshewouldhavespokentoanative,andhadnotknownthatacross,sturdyoldYorkshiremanwasnotaccustomedtosalaamtohismasters,andbemerelycommandedbythemtodothings. “Tha’rtliketh’robin,”hesaidtoheronemorningwhenheliftedhisheadandsawherstandingbyhim.“IneverknowswhenIshallseetheeorwhichsidetha’llcomefrom.” “He’sfriendswithmenow,”saidMary. “That’slikehim,”snappedBenWeatherstaff. “Makin’uptoth’womenfolkjustforvanityan’flightiness. There’snothin’hewouldn’tdoforth’sakeo’showin’offan’flirtin’histail-feathers. He’sasfullo’prideasanegg’sfullo’meat.” HeveryseldomtalkedmuchandsometimesdidnotevenanswerMary’squestionsexceptbyagrunt,butthismorninghesaidmorethanusual. Hestoodupandrestedonehobnailedbootonthetopofhisspadewhilehelookedherover. “Howlonghastha’beenhere?”hejerkedout. “Ithinkit’saboutamonth,”sheanswered. “Tha’sbeginnin’todoMisselthwaitecredit,”hesaid. “Tha’sabitfatterthantha’wasan’tha’snotquitesoyeller. Tha’lookedlikeayoungpluckedcrowwhentha’firstcameintothisgarden. ThinksItomyselfIneverseteyesonanuglier,sourerfacedyoung‘un.” Marywasnotvainandasshehadneverthoughtmuchofherlooksshewasnotgreatlydisturbed. “IknowI’mfatter,”shesaid.“Mystockingsaregettingtighter.Theyusedtomakewrinkles.There’stherobin,BenWeatherstaff.” There,indeed,wastherobin,andshethoughthelookednicerthanever. Hisredwaistcoatwasasglossyassatinandheflirtedhiswingsandtailandtiltedhisheadandhoppedaboutwithallsortsoflivelygraces. HeseemeddeterminedtomakeBenWeatherstaffadmirehim.ButBenwassarcastic. “Aye,theretha’art!”hesaid. “Tha’canputupwithmeforabitsometimeswhentha’sgotnoonebetter. Tha’sbeenreddenin’upthywaistcoatan’polishin’thyfeathersthistwoweeks.Iknowwhattha’supto. Tha’scourtin’someboldyoungmadamsomewheretellin’thyliestoheraboutbein’th’finestcockrobinonMisselMooran’readytofightallth’restof‘em.” “Oh!Lookathim!”exclaimedMary. Therobinwasevidentlyinafascinating,boldmood. HehoppedcloserandcloserandlookedatBenWeatherstaffmoreandmoreengagingly. Heflewontothenearestcurrantbushandtiltedhisheadandsangalittlesongrightathim. “Tha’thinkstha’llgetovermebydoin’that,”saidBen,wrinklinghisfaceupinsuchawaythatMaryfeltsurehewastryingnottolookpleased. “Tha’thinksnoonecanstandoutagainstthee—that’swhattha’thinks.” Therobinspreadhiswings—Marycouldscarcelybelievehereyes. HeflewrightuptothehandleofBenWeatherstaff’sspadeandalightedonthetopofit. Thentheoldman’sfacewrinkleditselfslowlyintoanewexpression. Hestoodstillasifhewereafraidtobreathe—asifhewouldnothavestirredfortheworld,lesthisrobinshouldstartaway.Hespokequiteinawhisper. “Well,I’mdanged!”hesaidassoftlyasifheweresayingsomethingquitedifferent.“Tha’doesknowhowtogetatachap—tha’does!Tha’sfairunearthly,tha’ssoknowin’.” Andhestoodwithoutstirring—almostwithoutdrawinghisbreath—untiltherobingaveanotherflirttohiswingsandflewaway. ThenhestoodlookingatthehandleofthespadeasiftheremightbeMagicinit,andthenhebegantodigagainandsaidnothingforseveralminutes. Butbecausehekeptbreakingintoaslowgrinnowandthen,Marywasnotafraidtotalktohim. “Haveyouagardenofyourown?”sheasked. “No.I’mbachelderan’lodgewithMartinatth’gate.” “Ifyouhadone,”saidMary,“whatwouldyouplant?” “Cabbagesan’‘tatersan’onions.” “Butifyouwantedtomakeaflowergarden,”persistedMary,“whatwouldyouplant?” “Bulbsan’sweet-smellin’things—butmostlyroses.” “Doyoulikeroses?”shesaid. BenWeatherstaffrootedupaweedandthrewitasidebeforeheanswered. “Well,yes,Ido.IwaslearnedthatbyayoungladyIwasgardenerto. Shehadalotinaplaceshewasfondof,an’sheloved‘emliketheywaschildren—orrobins.I’veseenherbendoveran’kiss‘em.” Hedraggedoutanotherweedandscowledatit.“Thatwereasmuchastenyear’ago.” “Whereisshenow?”askedMary,muchinterested. “Heaven,”heanswered,anddrovehisspadedeepintothesoil,“’cordingtowhatparsonsays.” “Whathappenedtotheroses?”Maryaskedagain,moreinterestedthanever. “Theywaslefttothemselves.” Marywasbecomingquiteexcited. “Didtheyquitedie?Dorosesquitediewhentheyarelefttothemselves?”sheventured. “Well,I’dgottolike‘em—an’Ilikedher—an’sheliked‘em,”BenWeatherstaffadmittedreluctantly. “OnceortwiceayearI’dgoan’workat‘emabit—prune‘eman’digaboutth’roots. Theyrunwild,buttheywasinrichsoil,sosomeof‘emlived.” “Whentheyhavenoleavesandlookgrayandbrownanddry,howcanyoutellwhethertheyaredeadoralive?”inquiredMary. “Waittillth’springgetsat‘em—waittillth’sunshinesonth’rainandth’rainfallsonth’sunshinean’thentha’llfindout.” “How—how?”criedMary,forgettingtobecareful. “Lookalongth’twigsan’branchesan’iftha’seeabitofabrownlumpswellingherean’there,watchitafterth’warmrainan’seewhathappens.” Hestoppedsuddenlyandlookedcuriouslyathereagerface. “Whydoestha’caresomuchaboutrosesan’such,allofasudden?”hedemanded. MistressMaryfeltherfacegrowred.Shewasalmostafraidtoanswer. “I—Iwanttoplaythat—thatIhaveagardenofmyown,”shestammered.“I—thereisnothingformetodo.Ihavenothing—andnoone.” “Well,”saidBenWeatherstaffslowly,ashewatchedher,“that’strue.Tha’hasn’t.” HesaiditinsuchanoddwaythatMarywonderedifhewasactuallyalittlesorryforher. Shehadneverfeltsorryforherself;shehadonlyfelttiredandcross,becauseshedislikedpeopleandthingssomuch. 
