After another week of rain the high arch of blue skyappeared again and the sun which poured down was quite hot.

　　Though there had been no chance to see either the secretgarden or Dickon, Mistress Mary had enjoyed herselfvery much. The week had not seemed long. She had spenthours of every day with Colin in his room, talking aboutRajahs or gardens or Dickon and the cottage on the moor.

　　They had looked at the splendid books and pictures andsometimes Mary had read things to Colin, and sometimes hehad read a little to her. When he was amused and interestedshe thought he scarcely looked like an invalid at all,except that his face was so colorless and he was alwayson the sofa.

　　"You are a sly young one to listen and get out of yourbed to go following things up like you did that night,"Mrs. Medlock said once. "But there's no saying it'snot been a sort of blessing to the lot of us. He's nothad a tantrum or a whining fit since you made friends.

　　The nurse was just going to give up the case because shewas so sick of him, but she says she doesn't mind stayingnow you've gone on duty with her," laughing a little.

　　In her talks with Colin, Mary had tried to be very cautiousabout the secret garden. There were certain things shewanted to find out from him, but she felt that she mustfind them out without asking him direct questions.

　　In the first place, as she began to like to be with him,she wanted to discover whether he was the kind of boy youcould tell a secret to. He was not in the least like Dickon,but he was evidently so pleased with the idea of a gardenno one knew anything about that she thought perhaps hecould be trusted. But she had not known him long enoughto be sure. The second thing she wanted to find out wasthis: If he could be trusted--if he really could--wouldn'tit be possible to take him to the garden without havingany one find it out? The grand doctor had said that he musthave fresh air and Colin had said that he would not mindfresh air in a secret garden. Perhaps if he had a greatdeal of fresh air and knew Dickon and the robin and sawthings growing he might not think so much about dying.

　　Mary had seen herself in the glass sometimes lately when shehad realized that she looked quite a different creaturefrom the child she had seen when she arrived from India.

　　This child looked nicer. Even Martha had seen a changein her.

　　"Th' air from th' moor has done thee good already,"she had said. "Tha'rt not nigh so yeller and tha'rt notnigh so scrawny. Even tha' hair doesn't slamp down on tha'

　　head so flat. It's got some life in it so as it sticksout a bit.""It's like me," said Mary. "It's growing strongerand fatter. I'm sure there's more of it.""It looks it, for sure," said Martha, ruffling it upa little round her face. "Tha'rt not half so ugly whenit's that way an' there's a bit o' red in tha' cheeks."If gardens and fresh air had been good for her perhaps theywould be good for Colin. But then, if he hated peopleto look at him, perhaps he would not like to see Dickon.

　　"Why does it make you angry when you are looked at?"she inquired one day.

　　"I always hated it," he answered, "even when I was very little.

　　Then when they took me to the seaside and I used to liein my carriage everybody used to stare and ladies wouldstop and talk to my nurse and then they would begin towhisper and I knew then they were saying I shouldn't liveto grow up. Then sometimes the ladies would pat my cheeksand say `Poor child!' Once when a lady did that I screamedout loud and bit her hand. She was so frightened she ran away.""She thought you had gone mad like a dog," said Mary,not at all admiringly.

　　"I don't care what she thought," said Colin, frowning.

　　"I wonder why you didn't scream and bite me when I cameinto your room?" said Mary. Then she began to smile slowly.

　　"I thought you were a ghost or a dream," he said.

　　"You can't bite a ghost or a dream, and if you scream theydon't care.""Would you hate it if--if a boy looked at you?"Mary asked uncertainly.

　　He lay back on his cushion and paused thoughtfully.

　　"There's one boy," he said quite slowly, as if he were thinkingover every word, "there's one boy I believe I shouldn't mind.

　　It's that boy who knows where the foxes live--Dickon.""I'm sure you wouldn't mind him," said Mary.

　　"The birds don't and other animals," he said, still thinkingit over, "perhaps that's why I shouldn't. He's a sortof animal charmer and I am a boy animal."Then he laughed and she laughed too; in fact it endedin their both laughing a great deal and finding the ideaof a boy animal hiding in his hole very funny indeed.

　　What Mary felt afterward was that she need not fearabout Dickon.

　　On that first morning when the sky was blue again Mary wakenedvery early. The sun was pouring in slanting rays throughthe blinds and there was something so joyous in the sightof it that she jumped out of bed and ran to the window.

　　She drew up the blinds and opened the window itselfand a great waft of fresh, scented air blew in upon her.

　　The moor was blue and the whole world looked as if somethingMagic had happened to it. There were tender littlefluting sounds here and there and everywhere, as if scoresof birds were beginning to tune up for a concert.

　　Mary put her hand out of the window and held it in the sun.

　　"It's warm--warm!" she said. "It will make the greenpoints push up and up and up, and it will make the bulbsand roots work and struggle with all their might underthe earth."She kneeled down and leaned out of the window as faras she could, breathing big breaths and sniffing the airuntil she laughed because she remembered what Dickon'smother had said about the end of his nose quiveringlike a rabbit's. "It must be very early," she said.

　　"The little clouds are all pink and I've never seenthe sky look like this. No one is up. I don't even hearthe stable boys."A sudden thought made her scramble to her feet.

　　"I can't wait! I am going to see the garden!"She had learned to dress herself by this time and she puton her clothes in five minutes. She knew a small side doorwhich she could unbolt herself and she flew downstairsin her stocking feet and put on her shoes in the hall.

　　She unchained and unbolted and unlocked and when the doorwas open she sprang across the step with one bound,and there she was standing on the grass, which seemedto have turned green, and with the sun pouring down onher and warm sweet wafts about her and the fluting andtwittering and singing coming from every bush and tree.

　　She clasped her hands for pure joy and looked up in the skyand it was so blue and pink and pearly and white and floodedwith springtime light that she felt as if she must fluteand sing aloud herself and knew that thrushes and robinsand skylarks could not possibly help it. She ran aroundthe shrubs and paths towards the secret garden.

　　"It is all different already," she said. "The grass isgreener and things are sticking up every- where and thingsare uncurling and green buds of leaves are showing.

　　This afternoon I am sure Dickon will come."The long warm rain had done strange things to theherbaceous beds which bordered the walk by the lower wall.

　　There were things sprouting and pushing out from theroots of clumps of plants and there were actually hereand there glimpses of royal purple and yellow unfurlingamong the stems of crocuses. Six months before MistressMary would not have seen how the world was waking up,but now she missed nothing.

　　When she had reached the place where the door hid itselfunder the ivy, she was startled by a curious loud sound.

　　It was the caw--caw of a crow and it came from the topof the wall, and when she looked up, there sat a bigglossy-plumaged blue-black bird, looking down at her verywisely indeed. She had never seen a crow so close beforeand he made her a little nervous, but the next moment hespread his wings and flapped away across the garden.

　　She hoped he was not going to stay inside and shepushed the door open wondering if he would. When shegot fairly into the garden she saw that he probablydid intend to stay because he had alighted on a dwarfapple-tree and under the apple-tree was lying a littlereddish animal with a Bushy tail, and both of them werewatching the stooping body and rust-red head of Dickon,who was kneeling on the grass working hard.

　　Mary flew across the grass to him.

　　"Oh, Dickon! Dickon!" she cried out. "How could you gethere so early! How could you! The sun has only just got up!"He got up himself, laughing and glowing, and tousled;his eyes like a bit of the sky.

　　"Eh!" he said. "I was up long before him. How could Ihave stayed abed! Th' world's all fair begun again thismornin', it has. An' it's workin' an' hummin' an' scratchin'

　　an' pipin' an' nest-buildin' an' breathin' out scents,till you've got to be out on it 'stead o' lyin' on your back.

　　When th' sun did jump up, th' moor went mad for joy, an'

　　I was in the midst of th' heather, an' I run like madmyself, shoutin' an' singin'. An' I come straight here.

　　I couldn't have stayed away. Why, th' garden was lyin'

　　here waitin'!"Mary put her hands on her chest, panting, as if shehad been running herself.

　　"Oh, Dickon! Dickon!" she said. "I'm so happy I canscarcely breathe!"Seeing him talking to a stranger, the little bushy-tailedanimal rose from its place under the tree and came to him,and the rook, cawing once, flew down from its branchand settled quietly on his shoulder.

　　"This is th' little fox cub," he said, rubbing the littlereddish animal's head. "It's named Captain. An' thishere's Soot. Soot he flew across th' moor with me an'

　　Captain he run same as if th' hounds had been after him.

　　They both felt same as I did."Neither of the creatures looked as if he were the leastafraid of Mary. When Dickon began to walk about,Soot stayed on his shoulder and Captain trotted quietlyclose to his side.

　　"See here!" said Dickon. "See how these haspushed up, an' these an' these! An' Eh! Look at these here!"He threw himself upon his knees and Mary wentdown beside him. They had come upon a whole clumpof crocuses burst into purple and orange and gold.

　　Mary bent her face down and kissed and kissed them.

　　"You never kiss a person in that way," she said when shelifted her head. "Flowers are so different."He looked puzzled but smiled.

　　"Eh!" he said, "I've kissed mother many a time tha............