| |
That night Mary slept poorly. Her dreams plagued by broken images from her childhood in India and her parents. Once she woke from a dream in which Misselthwaite was burning and she was running down dark hallways from hot flames and stinging smoke. In the morning, Mary felt more tired than she had the previous night. She had just finished lacing her shoes, when Martha entered with her breakfast. The dishes from the night before remained on the table. Martha gathered those and replaced them with a bowl of porridge, two boiled eggs, toast, and fresh milk.
"Tha looks tired this mornin’," Martha observed, lifting the tray of dinner dishes.
"I didn’t sleep well," Mary replied. "Dreams about India and Misselthwaite burning.”
"Eh! The poor lass!" Martha sadly sighed and patted Mary’s cheek. Then, with a jaunty whistle, she began straightening the bedclothes.
“You seem much revived this morning,” Mary observed.
“Aye. Had the first decent night’s sleep since my sister fell sick. Mother only had to check on her twice durin’ the night, an’ the rest o’ us slept grateful, we did.”
“I hope Miss Edmonds slept all right,” Mary worried.
“Give her time,” Martha gently instructed. “Time mends everything.”
"Does it really? Does time mend everything?" Mary asked, sitting down to eat.
"Aye, that it does." Martha replied. "Just look at yoursel’ and young Mester Colin. Tha’ both was two o’ the most difficult children I ever met, an’ now both o’ you are a real pleasure, indeed."
Mary blushed, quickly taking a bite of toast. As Mary ate, Martha swept the hearth and tidied the room. The day promised a warmth that would bring a fresh burst of flowers. Martha was cheerfully humming to herself as Mary drained the last of her milk. Leaving Martha to finish her tasks, Mary slowly walked to Colin’s room and knocked at the door. Colin was chewing toast when he opened the door.
“Haf oo talked wif Miff Edmonds?” Colin asked around the toast.
“No. I wanted to get you first. I thought we should take her out to the gardens, and if we both asked, she might agree,” Mary reasoned.
Mary and Colin were soon standing outside Miss Edmonds’ door. They listened carefully for any sounds within. After a few moments’ hesitation, Colin carefully knocked. A handful of seconds passed before the door opened.
Miss Edmonds was dressed and ready for the day, but she looked tired and wan.
"Good morning, Mary, Colin." Miss Edmonds, spent as she was, still managed a smile.
"Would you like to go to the garden with Colin and me, Miss Edmonds?" Mary asked. "It looks as if it will be a lovely day out, and fresh air always makes me feel so good I thought you might like to come as well."
"All right, then. I do need to be back by noon, however. Master Craven and I have an appointment to discuss your education and other important matters." Miss Edmonds closed the door to her room and smiled at the children. “Who shall lead the way?”
“I will!” Colin shouted. He took one of Miss Edmonds’ hands and led her forward. Mary grabbed the other hand and in a line, they started down the hall.
As they walked, Mary kept thinking about Miss Edmonds’ smile. For some reason, Mary’s heart seemed to tighten every time her governess smiled at her. It was like the feeling she had when the breeze blew a perfume of roses to her in the summer, or when she watched Robin feed his babies. Perhaps it was magic, just like the magic she felt in the garden. Maybe Miss Edmonds could charm people as Dickon could charm animals. As Mary thought this, Colin was thinking how soft and warm his tutor’s hand was, and how wonderful it was to hold it, how warm it made him feel inside.
"We’ve missed your reading of Robinson Crusoe while you were away," Mary ventured. "I hope you feel well enough to continue soon."
"Oh, heavens. I just left you all hanging in suspense, didn’t I?" The governess tisk-tisked herself. I will most certainly resume our story post haste. In fact, I was planning on distracting myself with a book tonight, but I think reading with you children will be much better."
"Good!" Mary smiled, doing a small skip in mid-stride. "I was really on edge to find out what happens next."
"Speaking of happenings," Miss Edmonds said. "What has happened here since I left?"
"Well, we played a game of hide and seek and found a secret passage," Mary said.
“Hey!” Colin exclaimed, “I wanted to tell!”
“Sorry! It just slipped out.” Mary apologized.
"Really! Where did it lead?”
“To the pantry,” Colin responded. “We thought it used to be for the servants when the Misselthwaite had more people living here.”
“That could be true,” Miss Edmonds said thoughtfully, “Many large houses have servants’ passages.”
A fresh breeze tickled their ears and ruffled the grass. Mary watched a bird dip and swoop in the sky, like a flying ballerina. She smiled, wondering if Robin had mated this year and built a nest yet. Mary took a deep breath and sighed, catching Colin’s eye. They smiled at one another, and for no particular reason, giggled. Both children were thankful they had their governess back. Miss Edmonds smiled at the children. It was a splendid day of sunshine and fresh spring growth, and the children were a delight to her spirits. The weight of sorrow did not leave, but it loosened a bit. The paths were freshly raked and tended along the way. New green sprouts were cracking the earth, while the earliest batch of flowers had begun to lose their petals in patches of yellow and purple. Spring was melting into summer, promising more warm and bright days ahead. The gate to the Secret Garden swung open at Mary’s touch. The curtain of ivy that once hid the door had been trimmed a few months back, and now hung neatly, fringing the outside edges of the door, providing some mystery without making entry difficult. The trio rustled through the dark green vines into the garden. Bright splashes of color bloomed from marigolds, foxglove, and a variety of flowers welcoming the season. Climbing roses were beginning to sprout delicate buds among freshly unfurled leaves. A weeping willow tree in a corner of the garden had a fresh mane of greenery that lazily swept the carpet of grass underneath. Colin smiled widely as he watched a small bluebird flutter and flap in the freshly filled birdbath nearby. Droplets of water flew from its wings and tail, sparkling in the sunlight, as the bird rinsed off the morning’s dust.
"Dickon must have freshened the water recently. That bath was turning a bit green when last I saw," Colin commented.
"It looks as if he turned some soil over by the wall there, too." Mary observed, pointing to a small patch of fresh brown earth near a cherry tree.
Miss Edmonds walked over to the area Mary had indicated a studied it for a moment.
"No," she said, "A bird has been looking for something to eat. Look closely and you can see the scratches of its little feet."
Mary and Colin carefully stooped down and looked at the ground. Indeed, there were tiny marks in the dirt, where little bird toes had scratched as it turned up the soil. Perhaps the bird had found a useful grub or worm and had gone off to feed its babies. Maybe the bird had even been their friend Robin. As Mary studied the miniature marks, someone tugged her sleeve. Mary turned her head and saw Colin beckon her with a crook of his finger, behind Miss Edmonds’ back. Casually, Mary wandered over to some nearby roses and smelled them, waiting for Colin to join her. After a moment, he wandered over as their tutor smelled the climbing roses down the path.
"I brought the diary." Colin said, patting his lumpy pocket. "Should I tell Miss Edmonds about it and get her opinion?"
"If you want to," Mary said.
As Colin thought a moment, Mary rubbed a rose petal between her fingers, admiring its silky texture. Afterward she held her fingers to her nose, smelling the sweet perfume clinging to her skin.
"I think I will," Colin said. "I believe I can trust her."
Colin carefully removed the diary from his pocket and walked over to Miss Edmonds, who had taken a seat on the grass by the lily pond.
"Miss Edmonds?" Colin asked in a hesitant voice.
"Hum?" the tutor replied, tipping her head upward to look at him.
A pleasant curve turned the corners of her mouth upwards as she squinted toward the bright blue sky that was speckled with tiny milky clouds.
"As you know, my mother fell from a tree in this garden and died after my birth, so I never really knew her," Colin began, his mind working out the best way to put forth his dilemma.
"Yes, Colin." Miss Edmonds replied, sensing something important was about to be asked. Wanting to show complete attention, she sat up straighter and patted the ground by her. Colin took a seat, and Mary quietly joined them.
"Mary and I were playing in the garden while you were away and found the tree my mother had fallen from. It’s there in that dark corner way back." Colin pointed and everyone studied the decrepit form of the old tree hiding in the shadows. "We found a hole in the tree and this was wrapped up inside, hidden."
Colin held the diary out for Miss Edmonds to see.
"What is it, Colin?" Miss Edmonds asked.
"My mother’s journal. She must have written in it while she sat in her tree." Colin extended the small volume toward his teacher. Carefully she took it.
"Have you read it?" Miss Edmonds asked, treading carefully around the conversation, afraid she might do or say something wrong.
"Yes. It was quite difficult at first, but the more I read, the more I felt her realness as I never had before." Colin stopped a moment and watched the large lily pads gently move upon the water. "Should I tell my father?" He finally asked abruptly.
Miss Edmonds was silent for a gathering of moments, contemplating the small book in her hands. Twice she looked up thoughtfully watching the decrepit tree, before looking back to the journal.
“Yes,” she said, finally. “He deserves to know.” With an encouraging nod, Miss Edmonds handed the journal back to Colin.
With great care, Colin put the book back into his pocket and absently patted it.
“I will then, tomorrow morning.” Colin said, sitting up straighter.
“You have nothing to fear from your father, Colin.” Miss Edmonds said. “He will not be angry, and it is something you two can share. Something that is special.”
“Thank you, Miss Edmonds,” Colin said, smiling brightly.
As Mary watched her tutor pat her cousin on his knee, encouraging him to share this special thing with his father, she felt a small twinge of resentment in her chest. Her Forgotten Room would just have to do for her special thing, and she could share it with anyone or no one as she chose.
Soon they were all drowsy on the warm grass.
“I had better get up and do something or I will sleep away the day,” Colin stated with a yawn.
Just then, the garden gate swung inward and Lord Craven appeared. He looked about with pleasure and pain, happy to see the garden loved again, but haunted by the memories of his lost wife walking the paths and smelling the roses.
“Father!” Colin called, waving and jumping up to greet him.
“I met Miss Medlock in the hallway and received quite a scolding for staying in on such a fine day as this,” Lord Craven chuckled. “Anyone for a game of blind-man’s-bluff?”
