Mary ran so fast that she was rather out of breath when shereached her room. Her hair was ruffled on her foreheadand her cheeks were bright pink. Her dinner was waitingon the table, and Martha was waiting near it.

　　"Tha's a bit late," she said. "Where has tha' been?""I've seen Dickon!" said Mary. "I've seen Dickon!""I knew he'd come," said Martha exultantly. "How does tha'

　　like him?""I think--I think he's beautiful!" said Mary in a determinedvoice.

　　Martha looked rather taken aback but she looked pleased, too.

　　"Well," she said, "he's th' best lad as ever was born,but us never thought he was handsome. His nose turns uptoo much.""I like it to turn up," said Mary.

　　"An' his eyes is so round," said Martha, a trifle doubtful.

　　"Though they're a nice color." "I like them round,"said Mary. "And they are exactly the color of the skyover the moor."Martha beamed with satisfaction.

　　"Mother says he made 'em that color with always lookin'

　　up at th' birds an' th' clouds. But he has got a big mouth,hasn't he, now?""I love his big mouth," said Mary obstinately. "I wishmine were just like it."Martha chuckled delightedly.

　　"It'd look rare an' funny in thy bit of a face," she said.

　　"But I knowed it would be that way when tha' saw him.

　　How did tha' like th' seeds an' th' garden tools?""How did you know he brought them?" asked Mary.

　　"Eh! I never thought of him not bringin' 'em. He'dbe sure to bring 'em if they was in Yorkshire.

　　He's such a trusty lad."Mary was afraid that she might begin to askdifficult questions, but she did not. She was verymuch interested in the seeds and gardening tools,and there was only one moment when Mary was frightened.

　　This was when she began to ask where the flowers were to beplanted.

　　"Who did tha' ask about it?" she inquired.

　　"I haven't asked anybody yet," said Mary, hesitating.

　　"Well, I wouldn't ask th' head gardener. He's too grand,Mr. Roach is.""I've never seen him," said Mary. "I've only seenundergardeners and Ben Weatherstaff.""If I was you, I'd ask Ben Weatherstaff," advised Martha.

　　"He's not half as bad as he looks, for all he's so crabbed.

　　Mr. Craven lets him do what he likes because he was herewhen Mrs. Craven was alive, an' he used to make her laugh.

　　She liked him. Perhaps he'd find you a corner somewhere out o'

　　the way.""If it was out of the way and no one wanted it, no onecould mind my having it, could they?" Mary said anxiously.

　　"There wouldn't be no reason," answered Martha.

　　"You wouldn't do no harm."Mary ate her dinner as quickly as she could and when sherose from the table she was going to run to her roomto put on her hat again, but Martha stopped her.

　　"I've got somethin' to tell you," she said. "I thoughtI'd let you eat your dinner first. Mr. Craven came backthis mornin' and I think he wants to see you."Mary turned quite pale.

　　"Oh!" she said. "Why! Why! He didn't want to see me when I came.

　　I heard Pitcher say he didn't." "Well," explained Martha,"Mrs. Medlock says it's because o' mother. She was walkin'

　　to Thwaite village an' she met him. She'd never spoketo him before, but Mrs. Craven had been to our cottagetwo or three times. He'd forgot, but mother hadn't an'

　　she made bold to stop him. I don't know what she saidto him about you but she said somethin' as put him in th'

　　mind to see you before he goes away again, tomorrow.""Oh!" cried Mary, "is he going away tomorrow? I am so glad!""He's goin' for a long time. He mayn't come back tillautumn or winter. He's goin' to travel in foreign places.

　　He's always doin' it.""Oh! I'm so glad--so glad!" said Mary thankfully.

　　If he did not come back until winter, or even autumn,there would be time to watch the secret garden come alive.

　　Even if he found out then and took it away from her shewould have had that much at least.

　　"When do you think he will want to see--"She did not finish the sentence, because the door opened,and Mrs. Medlock walked in. She had on her best blackdress and cap, and her collar was fastened with alarge brooch with a picture of a man's face on it.

　　It was a colored photograph of Mr. Medlock who had diedyears ago, and she always wore it when she was dressed up.

　　She looked nervous and excited.

　　"Your hair's rough," she said quickly. "Go andbrush it. Martha, help her to slip on her best dress.

　　Mr. Craven sent me to bring her to him in his study."All the pink left Mary's cheeks. Her heart began tothump and she felt herself changing into a stiff, plain,silent child again. She did not even answer Mrs. Medlock,but turned and walked into her bedroom, followed by Martha.

　　She said nothing while her dress was changed, and herhair brushed, and after she was quite tidy she followedMrs. Medlock down the corridors, in silence. What was therefor her to say? She was obliged to go and see Mr. Cravenand he would not like her, and she would not like him.

　　She knew what he would think of her.

　　She was taken to a part of the house she had not beeninto before. At last Mrs. Medlock knocked at a door,and when some one said, "Come in," they entered theroom together. A man was sitting in an armchair beforethe fire, and Mrs. Medlock spoke to him.

　　"This is Miss Mary, sir," she said.

　　"You can go and leave her here. I will ring for youwhen I want you to take her away," said Mr. Craven.

　　When she went out and closed the door, Mary could onlystand waiting, a plain little thing, twisting her thinhands together. She could see that the man in thechair was not so much a hunchback as a man with high,rather crooked shoulders, and he had black hair streakedwith white. He turned his head over his high shouldersand spoke to her.

　　"Come here!" he said.

　　Mary went to him.

　　He was not ugly. His face would have been handsome if ithad not been so miserable. He looked as if the sightof her worried and fretted him and as if he did not knowwhat in the world to do with her.

　　"Are you well?" he asked.

　　"Yes," answered Mary.

　　"Do they take good care of you?""Yes."He rubbed his forehead fretfully as he looked her over.

　　"You are very thin," he said.

　　"I am getting fatter," Mary answered in what she knewwas her stiffest way.

　　What an unhappy face he had! His black eyes seemed as if theyscarcely saw her, as if they were seeing something else,and he could hardly keep his thoughts upon her.

　　"I forgot you," he said. "How could I remember you? Iintended to send you a governess or a nurse, or someone of that sort, but I forgot.""Please," began Mary. "Please--" and then the lumpin her throat choked her.

　　"What do you want to say?" he inquired.

　　"I am--I am too big for a nurse," said Mary.

　　"And please--please don't make me have a governess yet."He rubbed his forehead again an............