Page 50 - Secret Garden

But Martha’s face crumpled into tears when Mary told her about finding Colin. “Now I’ll get the blame and lose my job! How will Mother manage without me fetchin’ home money?”
“You won’t get blamed, I promise,” said Mary, and told her all about the night-time visit.
Martha gasped in amazement. “Him din’t throw one of his tantrums?” “No. In fact, he wants me to visit often. It’s going to be our secret.” Martha flapped her apron to cool her face, “Eh! The world’s turned all
upside down an’ inside out!”
Sure enough, Colin summoned Martha and Mary to his room. He was
perched on a cushion, wrapped in a velvet dressing gown, like a little emperor. “Everybody has to do what I tell them. Yes, Martha? So, if I tell you to fetch Mary, you must. All right? Now go away.”
It gave Mary the oddest feeling, seeing him dispense commands. “Why are you looking at me like that?” Colin demanded. “You’re very different from Dickon.”
“Who’s Dickon?”
So, Mary told him about the gentle, smiling boy who could speak to
birds and animals, rescue them, tame them and play to them on his pipe. As she finished, Colin’s strange eyes closed up tight. “I’ll never be like that. I’m too unhappy. I’m going to die.”
“How do you know?” said Mary unsympathetically. “The way you talk, anyone would think you were proud of it!”
The little emperor was startled. “Everybody’s always whispering about me dying and wishing I would.”