Page 80 - Secret Garden

Meanwhile, far away, Colin’s father, Mr Archibald Craven, was searching for something he had lost: happiness. As a young man he had owned it. But it had died, along with his young wife. Her garden was full of sad memories, so he had locked it up and left it, too, to die.
Somehow, the sadness had got out – over the walls, under the locked gate, scrambling like brambles across the lawn and into the house to scratch him.
So, as often as he could, he ran away from Misselthwaite Manor in search of peace, looking for a way to forget his lovely wife and her sickly baby.
Her sickly baby had grown into sickly, miserable Colin. Soon he, too, would die for sure, and there would
be more pain to bear, more sorrow.