Таинственный сад

XXVII. In The Garden

           Hecouldonlybekeptfromfuriesdangeroustohimselfbybeinggivenhisownwayineverydetail.

           Allthiswasnotanupliftingthingtorecall,butasthetrainwhirledhimthroughmountainpassesandgoldenplainsthemanwhowas“comingalive”begantothinkinanewwayandhethoughtlongandsteadilyanddeeply.

           “PerhapsIhavebeenallwrongfortenyears,”hesaidtohimself.“Tenyearsisalongtime.Itmaybetoolatetodoanything—quitetoolate.WhathaveIbeenthinkingof!”

           OfcoursethiswasthewrongMagic—tobeginbysaying“toolate.”EvenColincouldhavetoldhimthat.ButheknewnothingofMagic—eitherblackorwhite.Thishehadyettolearn.HewonderedifSusanSowerbyhadtakencourageandwrittentohimonlybecausethemotherlycreaturehadrealizedthattheboywasmuchworse—wasfatallyill.Ifhehadnotbeenunderthespellofthecuriouscalmnesswhichhadtakenpossessionofhimhewouldhavebeenmorewretchedthanever.Butthecalmhadbroughtasortofcourageandhopewithit.Insteadofgivingwaytothoughtsoftheworstheactuallyfoundhewastryingtobelieveinbetterthings.

           “CoulditbepossiblethatsheseesthatImaybeabletodohimgoodandcontrolhim?”hethought.“IwillgoandseeheronmywaytoMisselthwaite.”

           Butwhenonhiswayacrossthemoorhestoppedthecarriageatthecottage,sevenoreightchildrenwhowereplayingaboutgatheredinagroupandbobbingsevenoreightfriendlyandpolitecurtsiestoldhimthattheirmotherhadgonetotheothersideofthemoorearlyinthemorningtohelpawomanwhohadanewbaby.

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