Таинственный сад / The secret garden. Фрэнсис-Элиза Ходжсон Бёрнетт

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СКАЧАТЬ thought that you didn’t know anything about gardening,” he exclaimed.

      “I don’t,” she answered, “but they were so little, and the grass was so thick and strong. They had no room to breathe. So I made a place for them.”

      Dickon went and knelt down by them, smiling.

      “That was right,” he said. “They will grow now. They’re crocuses and snowdrops, and these here are narcissuses. A lot of work for such a little wench!”

      “I’m growing stronger,” said Mary, “And when I dig I’m not tired at all. I like to smell the earth.”

      “It’s good for you,” he said, nodding his head wisely. “When it’s raining I lie under a bush and listen to the soft swish of drops.”

      “Do you never catch cold?” inquired Mary, gazing at him wonderingly.

      “Not me,” he said, grinning. “I have never caught cold since I was born.”

      He was working all the time he was talking and Mary was following him and helping him with her fork or the trowel.

      “There’s a lot of work to do here!” he said.

      “Will you come again and help me to do it?” Mary begged. “I can dig and pull up weeds, and do whatever you tell me. Oh! do come, Dickon!”

      “I’ll come every day if you want, rain or shine,” he answered stoutly. “Eh! We’ll have a lot of fun.”

      He began to walk about, looking up in the trees and at the walls and bushes with a thoughtful expression.

      “It’s a secret garden,” he said, “right?”

      “The door was locked and the key was buried,” said Mary. “No one could get in.”

      “Yes,” he said. “It’s a queer place.”

      Dickon laughed. Mary looked at him.

      “Dickon,” she said. “You are as nice as Martha said you were. I like you. I never thought I could like five people.”

      Dickon looked funny and delightful, Mary thought, with his round blue eyes and red cheeks.

      “Only five people?” he said. “Who are the other four?”

      “Your mother and Martha,” Mary said, “and the robin and Ben Weatherstaff.”

      Dickon laughed again.

      “I know you think I’m a queer lad,” he said, “but I think that you are a very queer lass.”

      Then Mary did a strange thing. She leaned forward and asked him a question,

      “Do you like me?”

      “Eh!” he answered heartily, “I do. I like you, and so does the robin, I believe!”

      “That’s two, then,” said Mary. “That’s two for me.”

      And then they began to work harder than ever and more joyfully. Then Mary heard the big clock in the courtyard strike the hour of her midday dinner.

      “I shall go,” she said mournfully. “And you will go too, won’t you?”

      Dickon grinned.

      “My dinner is with me,” he said. “Mother always gives me a bit of something in my pocket.”

      He picked up his coat from the grass and brought out of a pocket a lumpy little bundle. It held two thick pieces of bread with a slice of bacon.”

      Mary thought it looked a queer dinner. She went slowly to the door in the wall and then she stopped and went back.

      “Whatever happens, you-you never will tell?” she said.

      He smiled encouragingly.

      “Not me,” he said.

      Chapter XII

      A bit of Earth

      Mary ran fast and reached her room. Her dinner was waiting on the table, and Martha was waiting near it.

      “You’re late,” she said. “Where have you been?”

      “I’ve seen Dickon!” said Mary. “I’ve seen Dickon!”

      “Yes,” said Martha exultantly. “How do you like him?”

      “I think-I think he’s beautiful!” said Mary.

      Martha looked pleased.

      Mary ate her dinner as quickly as she could. When she rose from the table she was going to run to her room to put on her hat again, but Martha stopped her.

      “I’ve got something to tell you,” she said. “Mr. Craven came back and I think he wants to see you.”

      “Oh!” Mary said. “Why! Why! He didn’t want to see me when I came.”

      “Well,” explained Martha, “I don’t know about it, but he wants to see you before he goes away again, tomorrow.”

      “Oh!” cried Mary, “is he going away tomorrow? I am so glad!”

      “He’s going for a long time. He won’t come back till autumn or winter. He’s going to travel abroad.”

      “Oh! I’m so glad-so glad!” said Mary. “When do you think he will want to see…”

      She did not finish the sentence, because the door opened, and Mrs. Medlock walked in. She looked nervous and excited.

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