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Mary woke enough to eat a small breakfast and then fell back to sleep. When she woke next, in the late afternoon, Mary’s eyes opened to find a pleasant looking older woman sitting by her bed.
“Hello,” Mary said, trying to sit up. “Do I know you?”
A gentle hand pressed her back against the pillows.
“I’m Mrs. Elizabeth Edmonds, Jane’s mother. I sent everyone off to tend to themselves and their tasks. Lame as I am, I can at least watch a sleeping girl,” she said with a chuckle much like her daughter’s.
“Oh! I’m so happy to meet you! Jane talks about you all the time!” Mary said. “Are you hurt very badly?”
“Oh, I’ll be just fine in time, much like you, Missy.” Mrs. Edmonds smiled, leaning on a cane to pat Mary’s cheek.
It was while Mary and Mrs. Edmonds were getting to know each other, and much about Miss Edmonds as well, to Mary’s delight, that the door to Mary’s room slowly opened and Dickon’s smiling face popped from behind.
“Dickon!” Mary happily greeted her friend. “I’m so glad to see you! This is Mrs. Edmonds, our governess’ mother.” She struggled to sit up higher against her pillows to show him how much better she was.
“Eh! Tha’ can’t know how glad I am tha’s gettin’ better,” Dickon said, his smile so wide Mary thought he might burst with the effort of it.
Smelling of fresh earth and grass, Dickon gently sat on the edge of Mary’s bed. Mrs. Edmonds sat in a chair by the bed and watched with children with pleasure. Before the children could start a proper conversation, however, Dickon’s jacket began to twitch.
“Dickon, why is your jacket moving?” Mary asked.
“I brought tha a surprise,” Dickon said, his blue eyes twinkling. “Does tha’ promise to get well quick?” he teased.
“Yes! I want to get out of bed and see the garden and—and other things,” Mary said, almost forgetting herself and saying ‘the Forgotten Room,’ in her excitement.
“Well, if tha’ promises to take good care of tha’ self,” Dickon said, as he reached under his jacket, “here.”
Mary gasped in delight as a fuzzy kitten appeared in his hand, blinking yellow eyes in the light.
As Mary cradled the kitten in her lap, Mary had a sudden thought.
“Uncle Craven might not approve of a kitten,” Mary said worriedly. “What if he says I can’t keep it.”
“Tha’s kitten is a lass, an’ Martha asked permission yesterday,” Dickon informed her with a wink. “He says that tha’ must take proper care of her, an’ not let her run amuck, an’ teach her proper manners, an’ tha’ can keep her.”
“Oh! I must thank him!” Mary said, struggling to rise.
“Now, now, lass,” Mrs. Edmonds said, struggling quickly from her seat and trying to pat Mary back into place, “You must not tire yourself or you might fall ill again.”
Dickon supported Mary and fluffed her pillows, making agreeable sounds.
“But I must thank him! This is so wonderful!” Mary protested.
Mrs. Edmonds and Dickon thoughtfully looked at each other.
“I can support her, an’ tha’ can walk behind to make sure we go proper slow enough,” Dickon suggested.
Mrs. Edmonds paused a moment, then slowly nodded.
“All right, then.”
With Dickon’s strong arms supporting her, they found Master Craven in his study and slowly entered. Beaming brightly with the kitten in her arms, Mary tottered over to her uncle, who sat in his favorite chair by the hearth. Startled, he got up to help Dickon with his burden.
“What are you doing out of bed, young lady?” Lord Craven gently scolded, as Mary nearly toppled them all trying to hug him.
“Oh, Uncle Craven, thank you! I never thought I could be this happy. Where is Colin? I must tell him, but oh! I hope he does not get in a sore snit that I have my own pet,” Mary said, worried it might be fodder for another fight between them.
“Your cousin is busy settling his own new kitten in his room,” Lord Craven laughed. “I fear the little creature has hidden itself under the bed and made itself quite hard to get.”
“Eh! He’ll settle down soon when he gets familiar wi’ his new home,” Dickon stated confidently. He had positioned himself behind her, gently steadying Mary and waiting to help her back to her room.
“Well,” Archibald Craven said, trying to be serious, “it will do you both good to learn some responsibility. Just please keep them from underfoot and from the kitchens or Cook will have a fit.”
Lord Craven eyed Mary carefully.
“You’ve lost some weight,” he observed. “I shall have to tell Cook to make sure and feed you well, so we can get you back to yourself again.
“Susan Anne, she’s got most of her weight back an’ was runnin’ out on th’ moor yesterday,” Dickon said encouragingly.
“I plan to spend much of my time with Mary, until she is well. I will make sure she eats, and drinks, and rests, and gets plenty of them,” Mrs. Edmonds offered from where she had been quietly waiting nearby.
On the way back to her room, escorted closely by her uncle and Dickon, with Mrs. Edmonds close behind, Mary asked her uncle something that had been bothering her since she woke up from her fevered sleep.
“Did you find me in the Forgotten Room, Uncle Craven?”
“Martha found you and brought Miss Edmonds and me to you. Is that what you call it? The Forgotten Room?”
“Well, it just seemed so lonely, as if it were forgotten. And the girl who lived there, she seemed forgotten, too,” Mary replied quietly.
“She’s not forgotten, Mary, she’s still missed. That is why the room remains as you found it, untouched,” Lord Craven replied. “Amelia was a special girl, like you, Mary.”
“You knew her?” Mary asked, surprised.
“No, she died before I was born. She was my father’s sister, and he spoke of her often, with great fondness. He spoke about her laugh, how she would read him stories and play hide and seek with him.”
“Does everyone die young in this family?” asked Mary in a small voice.
“Oh, not at all,” Lord Craven replied. “My grandmother was ninety-seven, and one of my great aunts was—eighty nine, I believe. They had very full and satisfying lives, I am told.”
“Well, perhaps I will be like your grandmother and great aunt,” Mary responded, hopefully.
“Oh, I am quite certain you will be, Miss Mary,” Archibald Craven laughed.
