| |
The empty corridors seemed to stretch on forever. Mary thought about her new discovery as she searched for Colin and Miss Edmonds, finding only silence in each room. Each time she thought about her discovery, her heart beat a bit faster, as when she had first discovered the garden and it had been her secret garden. As she searched for Colin and Miss Edmunds, she composed questions to ask Martha. After a while, Mary began to wonder if she should just go back to her rooms and wait for them to return. Finally, she heard voices, distant and muffled. Listening carefully, Mary followed them.
“There you are! I was beginning to wonder if you had given up,” Mary said.
“Never. There is success in perseverance, as my mother has always said,” Miss Edmonds cheerfully replied. “And indeed, here you are!”
“I’m hungry, ” Colin announced.
“Yes, it is almost past time for supper,” Miss. Edmonds agreed. Then, “Where did you get the doll, Mary?” as she noticed the item cradled in Mary’s arms.
“I found it,” Mary replied calmly. After all, it was true. “It was in one of the rooms, and she looked lonely. I thought I would put her in my window seat and look at her for a while.”
“She is very pretty, and she looks old, too.” Miss Edmonds tilted her head, admiring the doll. “Her hair looks like yours a bit doesn’t it?” she observed.
“Perhaps so.” Mary looked at the doll again. Under the coating of dust, the doll’s hair was almost the same color of gold as Mary’s. “I like her.” Mary stated, realizing she felt something different for the doll than she did for her other things, such as books and dresses.
“Well, I think every girl should have a doll. She will be quite happy in your window seat, I believe, or did you plan on taking her to bed with you?” Miss Edmonds asked with a grin.
“No, I think the window seat will do fine. I don’t want to break her,” Mary responded, carefully smoothing the doll’s hair with her fingers.
“What should every boy have?” Colin asked. “Not a doll, I hope.” He wrinkled his nose at the idea.
“They should have plenty of energy and curiosity,” Jane Edmonds replied, gently ruffling Colin’s hair. “Now let’s get back so we can eat before my stomach speaks for itself.”
In the days that followed, Mary began to think of the room as “The Forgotten Room.” It seemed more forgotten than secret, as if time and people had simply forgotten the room and the girl who used to occupy it.
Mary and Colin progressed rapidly with their lessons. Mary still did not like mathematics, but found they were not quite as bad as she had feared. Colin had persuaded Miss Edmonds to let him take one of the newly arrived textbooks on science to his room for the evenings. Colin became convinced this was the “magic” he had been searching for. Every morning he went on at length about what he had read the night before.
The garden was visited less often than before, but it still lured the children out at least a few times a week after lessons or on weekends. Dickon was eager to meet the newest addition to the household, but Miss Edmonds was still settling in and required extra time to prepare her lessons in the evening before tea time. Dickon listened intently as Mary and Colin told him all about their tutor, at least all the children currently knew.
The nightly “tea time reading sessions” become the highlight of each day, as Colin and Mary became so completely absorbed in the tale of the poor shipwrecked Robinson Crusoe that sometimes the tea and snacks would go nearly untouched.
One evening, as Martha was laying out the tea and dishes, and the children were settling down in anticipation of the next installment of Crusoe’s adventures, Colin jumped happily to his feet.
“Father!” he cried joyfully, running over to Master Craven, who leaned lightly on his cane in the doorway.
He smiled gently at the boy, placing a hand on his son’s shoulder. “I heard quite a story was being read in here. May I join you?” he asked.
“The more, the better,” smiled Miss Edmonds, “Have you read Robinson Crusoe? We are well into it.”
Colin pulled an empty chair into the group and carefully adjusted it for him.
“Oh, yes, one of my favorites,” replied Master Craven as he took the offered seat.
“Good! Then let’s continue,” Miss Edmonds smiled, feeling a little nervous reading to the master of the house, but she cleared her throat and began. When they finished for the evening, the windows were dark with night. A lamp had been lit so they could finish the chapter.
“I wonder if poor Crusoe is alone on the island,” Mary wondered as Martha came to collect their dishes.
“I believe we will find out tomorrow evening,” Archibald Craven replied.
“I believe you are correct, Master Craven,” Miss Edmonds agreed, peaking at the pages to come.
“No cheating!” Colin cried. “You have to wait for us.”
“I’ve read it before, as you recall,” Miss Edmonds chuckled, laying the book aside.
“Time for bed, now,” Master Craven announced. “Miss Edmonds, if you have a moment, I would like to go over the children’s educational plans with you.”
“Certainly,” Miss Edmonds replied, feeling anxious.
As the children walked to the door, Mary stopped and turned around.
“Will you tuck me in tonight, Miss Edmonds?”
“Yes! Me too?” Colin begged. “Will you tuck me in again, too?”
“I would be happy to,” Miss Edmonds replied. “Get into your night clothes and into bed. I will be there shortly.”
“What is this ‘tucking in’?” Master Craven asked as the children happily trotted away.
“It’s something I started by accident. My mother always tucked me in at bedtime, and I just did it for Mary without thinking. Colin saw it and was intrigued, so...I suppose I’ve started something of a ritual. I hope you’re not offended, Master Craven.” Miss Edmonds braced herself for the reply.
“Not at all,” Archibald Craven assured her. He paused a moment, his brow creased with thought. “I have not been...how should I put it...caring enough with the children, especially Colin, I think. I should be more attentive. It is something I am having to learn after being so...self-involved...for so many years.”
Miss Edmonds thought Archibald Craven did not lack in affection for the children but lacked understanding on how best to show it after so many years of giving in to his grief. After a moment of silence, she asked, “Would you like to tuck the children in tonight, Master Craven?”
Archibald Craven thought a moment. “Would it be acceptable if you attended to Mary as I watched? Afterward I could attend to Colin.”
“I think that is a fine idea,” Miss Edmonds replied.
“Good, then,” Master Craven replied, relieved. “Now we shall discuss the children’s education.”
By the time Miss Edmonds and Master Craven entered Mary’s room, the night had grown deep and the moors silent. Mary had finally surrendered to sleep, so Miss Edmonds quietly straightened the covers that had been rumpled while Mary had been waiting. Master Craven watched silently from the doorway.
With a small sniff, Mary peeked drowsily from under heavy eyelids.
“What took you so long?” Mary asked in a small, sleepy voice. “I thought you had forgotten.
“I would never forget such an important thing. Master Craven and I had much to discuss,” Miss Edmonds replied, patting the covers snugly into place around Mary.
“What did you talk about?” Mary asked, yawning.
“Oh, a bit of this and a bit of that. Nearly everything, in fact. We spoke about you and Colin, your education, Misselthwaite Manor, and even about the garden.”
“Good,” Mary said with satisfaction, snuggling deeper under the covers. “Uncle needs someone to talk to.” She did not see him standing in the shadows.
