"IT HAS COME!"

Of course Dr. Craven had been sent for the morning afterColin had had his tantrum. He was always sent for atonce when such a thing occurred and he always found,when he arrived, a white shaken boy lying on his bed,sulky and still so hysterical that he was ready to breakinto fresh sobbing at the least word. In fact, Dr. Cravendreaded and detested the difficulties of these visits.

　　On this occasion he was away from Misselthwaite Manoruntil afternoon.

　　"How is he?" he asked Mrs. Medlock rather irritably when hearrived.

　　"He will break a blood-vessel in one of those fits some day.

　　The boy is half insane with hysteria and self-indulgence.""Well, sir," answered Mrs. Medlock, "you'll scarcely believeyour eyes when you see him. That plain sour-faced childthat's almost as bad as himself has just bewitched him.

　　How she's done it there's no telling. The Lord knowsshe's nothing to look at and you scarcely ever hearher speak, but she did what none of us dare do.

　　She just flew at him like a little cat last night,and stamped her feet and ordered him to stop screaming,and somehow she startled him so that he actually did stop,and this afternoon--well just come up and see, sir.

　　It's past crediting."The scene which Dr. Craven beheld when he entered hispatient's room was indeed rather astonishing to him.

　　As Mrs. Medlock opened the door he heard laughingand chattering. Colin was on his sofa in his dressing-gownand he was sitting up quite straight looking at a picturein one of the garden books and talking to the plainchild who at that moment could scarcely be called plainat all because her face was so glowing with enjoyment.

　　"Those long spires of blue ones--we'll have a lot of those,"Colin was announcing. "They're called Del-phin-iums.""Dickon says they're larkspurs made big and grand,"cried Mistress Mary. "There are clumps there already."Then they saw Dr. Craven and stopped. Mary became quitestill and Colin looked fretful.

　　"I am sorry to hear you were ill last night, my boy,"Dr. Craven said a trifle nervously. He was rather anervous man.

　　"I'm better now--much better," Colin answered,rather like a Rajah. "I'm going out in my chairin a day or two if it is fine. I want some fresh air."Dr. Craven sat down by him and felt his pulse and lookedat him curiously.

　　"It must be a very fine day," he said, "and you mustbe very careful not to tire yourself.""Fresh air won't tire me," said the young Rajah.

　　As there had been occasions when this same young gentlemanhad shrieked aloud with rage and had insisted that freshair would give him cold and kill him, it is not to bewondered at that his doctor felt somewhat startled.

　　"I thought you did not like fresh air," he said.

　　"I don't when I am by myself," replied the Rajah;"but my cousin is going out with me.""And the nurse, of course?" suggested Dr. Craven.

　　"No, I will not have the nurse," so magnificently that Marycould not help remembering how the young native Princehad looked with his diamonds and emeralds and pearlsstuck all over him and the great rubies on the small darkhand he had waved to command his servants to approachwith salaams and receive his orders.

　　"My cousin knows how to take care of me. I am always betterwhen she is with me. She made me better last night.

　　A very strong boy I know will push my carriage."Dr. Craven felt rather alarmed. If this tiresomehysterical boy should chance to get well he himself wouldlose all chance of inheriting Misselthwaite; but hewas not an unscrupulous man, though he was a weak one,and he did not intend to let him run into actual danger.

　　"He must be a strong boy and a steady boy," he said.

　　"And I must know something about him. Who is he? What ishis name?""It's Dickon," Mary spoke up suddenly. She felt somehowthat everybody who knew the moor must know Dickon.

　　And she was right, too. She saw that in a momentDr. Craven's serious face relaxed into a relieved smile.

　　"Oh, Dickon," he said. "If it is Dickon you will besafe enough. He's as strong as a moor pony, is Dickon.""And he's trusty," said Mary. "He's th' trustiest lad i'

　　Yorkshire." She had been talking Yorkshire to Colinand she forgot herself.

　　"Did Dickon teach you that?" asked Dr. Craven,laughing outright.

　　"I'm learning it as if it was French," said Mary rather coldly.

　　"It's like a native dialect in India. Very cleverpeople try to learn them. I like it and so does Colin.""Well, well," he said. "If it amuses you perhaps it won'tdo you any harm. Did you take your bromide last night, Colin?""No," Colin answered. "I wouldn't take it at firstand after Mary made me quiet she talked me to sleep--ina low voice--about the spring creeping into a garden.""That sounds soothing," said Dr. Craven, more perplexedthan ever and glancing sideways at Mistress Mary sittingon her stool and looking down silently at the carpet.

　　"You are evidently better, but you must remember--""I don't want to remember," interrupted the Rajah,appearing again. "When I lie by myself and remember Ibegin to have pains everywhere and I think of thingsthat make me begin to scream because I hate them so.

　　If there was a doctor anywhere who could make you forgetyou were ill instead of remembering it I would have himbrought here." And he waved a thin hand which ought reallyto have been covered with royal signet rings made of rubies.

　　"It is because my cousin makes me forget that she makesme better."Dr. Craven had never made such a short stay after a"tantrum"; usually he was obliged to remain a very longtime and do a great many things. This afternoon he didnot give any medicine or leave any new orders and he wasspared any disagreeable scenes. When he went downstairs helooked very thoughtful and when he talked to Mrs. Medlockin the library she felt that he was a much puzzled man.

　　"Well, sir," she ventured, "could you have believed it?""It is certainly a new state of affairs," said the doctor.

　　"And there's no denying it is better than the old one.""I believe Susan Sowerby's right--I do that," said Mrs. Medlock.

　　"I stopped in her cottage on my way to Thwaite yesterdayand had a bit of talk with her. And she says to me,'Well, Sarah Ann, she mayn't be a good child, an' she mayn'tbe a pretty one, but she's a child, an' children needschildren.' We went to school together, Susan Sowerby and me.""She's the best sick nurse I know," said Dr. Craven.

　　"When I find her in a cottage I know the chances are that Ishall save my patient."Mrs. Medlock smiled. She was fond of Susan Sowerby.

　　"She's got a way with her, has Susan," she went onquite volubly. "I've been thinking all morning of onething she said yesterday. She says, `Once when Iwas givin' th' children a bit of a preach after they'dbeen fightin' I ses to 'em all, "When I was at school myjography told as th' world was shaped like a orange an'

　　I found out before I was ten that th' whole orangedoesn't belong to nobody. No one owns more than his bitof a quarter an' there's times it seems like there'snot enow quarters to go round. But don't you--none o'

　　you--think as you own th' whole orange or you'll findout you're mistaken, an' you won't find it out withouthard knocks." `What children learns from children,'

　　she says, 'is that there's no sense in grabbin' at th'

　　whole orange--peel an' all. If you do you'll likelynot get even th' pips, an' them's too bitter to eat.'""She's a shrewd woman," said Dr. Craven, putting on his coat.

　　"Well, she's got a way of saying things," ended Mrs. Medlock,much pleased. "Sometimes I've said to her, 'Eh! Susan,if you was a different woman an' didn't talk such broadYorkshire I've seen the times when I should have said youwas clever.'"That night Colin slept without once awakening andwhen he opened his eyes in the morning he lay stilland smiled without knowing it--smiled because he felt socuriously comfortable. It was actually nice to be awake,and he turned over and stretched his limbs luxuriously.

　　He felt as if tight strings which had held him hadloosened themselves and let him go. He did not know thatDr. Craven would have said that his nerves had relaxedand rested themselves. Instead of lying and staring atthe wall and wishing he had not awakened, his mind was fullof the plans he and Mary had made yesterday, of picturesof the garden and of Dickon and his wild creatures.

　　It was so nice to have things to think about. And hehad not been awake more than ten minutes when he heardfeet running along the corridor and Mary was at the door.

　　The next minute she was in the room and had run acrossto his bed, bringing with her a waft of fresh air fullof the scent of the morning.

　　"You've been out! You've been out! There's that nicesmell of leaves!" he cried.

　　She had been running and her hair was loose and blownand she was bright with the air and pink-cheeked, thoughhe could not see it.

　　"It's so beautiful!" she said, a little breathlesswith her speed. "You never saw anything so beautiful!

　　It has come! I thought it had come that other morning,but it was only coming. It is here now! It has come,the Spring! Dickon says so!""Has it?" cried Colin, and though he really knew nothingabout it he felt his heart beat. He actually sat upin bed.

　　"Open the window!" he added, laughing half with joyfulexcitement and half at his own fancy. "Perhaps we mayhear golden trumpets!"And though he laughed, M............