Page 73 - Secret Garden

After a week of these secret outings, Colin’s cheeks were flushed and his eyes unusually bright. The Doctor feared fever, or over–excitement and politely suggested bed-rest. Colin told him to go away.
“I’m rather sorry for Dr Craven,” said Mary, when he was gone. “It must be horrid to have to be polite to a boy who is always rude to him.”
“Am I rude?” Colin asked, startled.
“Always getting your own way has made you nasty.”
“Am I nasty?”
“Yes,” said Mary. “Very. But don’t be cross, because so am I, too. But I’ve
improved since I found the garden.”
“I don’t want to be nasty,” said Colin. “I’m sure I’ll stop if I go to the
garden every day. There’s magic in there and it’s good magic.”
Mary gave this some thought. “People will suspect, if you turn suddenly
nice. Don’t stop altogether – not just yet.”
Every day, Colin walked around the garden. Dickon helped at first, but
soon there was no need. “Still, nobody must know,” he said, “until I can walk and run like any
other boy!” Colin said this often.
“Don’t let anyone know. It must stay
a secret.” He had a very particular reason. “When Father comes home, I’ll walk into his study and say, ‘Here I am. I’m well and I’m not going to die!’ And it must be
a surprise.”