Таинственный сад
XXI. Ben Weatherstaff
Thefaintglowofcolorwhichhadshownonhisfaceandneckandhandswhenhefirstgotinsidethegardenreallyneverquitediedaway.Helookedasifheweremadeoffleshinsteadofivoryorwax.
Theysawtherobincarryfoodtohismatetwoorthreetimes,anditwassosuggestiveofafternoonteathatColinfelttheymusthavesome.
“Goandmakeoneofthemenservantsbringsomeinabaskettotherhododendronwalk,”hesaid.“AndthenyouandDickoncanbringithere.”
Itwasanagreeableidea,easilycarriedout,andwhenthewhiteclothwasspreaduponthegrass,withhotteaandbutteredtoastandcrumpets,adelightfullyhungrymealwaseaten,andseveralbirdsondomesticerrandspausedtoinquirewhatwasgoingonandwereledintoinvestigatingcrumbswithgreatactivity.NutandShellwhiskeduptreeswithpiecesofcakeandSoottooktheentirehalfofabutteredcrumpetintoacornerandpeckedatandexaminedandturneditoverandmadehoarseremarksaboutituntilhedecidedtoswallowitalljoyfullyinonegulp.
Theafternoonwasdraggingtowardsitsmellowhour.Thesunwasdeepeningthegoldofitslances,thebeesweregoinghomeandthebirdswereflyingpastlessoften.DickonandMaryweresittingonthegrass,thetea-basketwasrepackedreadytobetakenbacktothehouse,andColinwaslyingagainsthiscushionswithhisheavylockspushedbackfromhisforeheadandhisfacelookingquiteanaturalcolor.
“Idon’twantthisafternoontogo,”hesaid;“butIshallcomebacktomorrow,andthedayafter,andthedayafter,andthedayafter.
