Page 16 - Secret Garden

The anchor chain rattled and the ship docked. Under Mary’s feet the dry land still seemed to be moving.
A woman was waiting for her, frowning and stern. “Mary Lennox? I’m Mrs Medlock,” she said, “your uncle’s
housekeeper at Misselthwaite Manor. Hurry up: we’ve a long way to go.”
All day long they were shaken about – first in a train, then by a coach that
rattled through towns and villages, until they reached a great, grey,
dreary wilderness without any colour. After sunset, darkness wrapped
them round and they seemed to be moving through Nothing
and Nowhere.
“Your uncle Mr Craven is
not at home much,” said Mrs Medlock. “He travels a lot. When he is home, you must not
bother him. His back pains him . . . and his heart broke years ago
when his wife died. So it’s me as has to feed you. It’s me must put up
with you. Hmmm. You’re no beauty, that’s for sure.”