Таємничий сад
XXVI. “It’s Mother!”
Withtheivybehindher,thesunlightdriftingthroughthetreesanddapplingherlongbluecloak,andhernicefreshfacesmilingacrossthegreeneryshewasratherlikeasoftlycoloredillustrationinoneofColin’sbooks.Shehadwonderfulaffectionateeyeswhichseemedtotakeeverythingin—allofthem,evenBenWeatherstaffandthe“creatures”andeveryflowerthatwasinbloom.Unexpectedlyasshehadappeared,notoneofthemfeltthatshewasanintruderatall.Dickon’seyeslightedlikelamps.
“It’smother—that’swhoitis!”hecriedandwentacrossthegrassatarun.
Colinbegantomovetowardher,too,andMarywentwithhim.Theybothfelttheirpulsesbeatfaster.
“It’smother!”Dickonsaidagainwhentheymethalfway.“Iknowedtha’wantedtoseeheran’Itoldherwhereth’doorwashid.”
Colinheldouthishandwithasortofflushedroyalshynessbuthiseyesquitedevouredherface.
“EvenwhenIwasillIwantedtoseeyou,”hesaid,“youandDickonandthesecretgarden.I’dneverwantedtoseeanyoneoranythingbefore.”
Thesightofhisupliftedfacebroughtaboutasuddenchangeinherown.Sheflushedandthecornersofhermouthshookandamistseemedtosweepoverhereyes.
“Eh!dearlad!”shebrokeouttremulously.“Eh!dearlad!”asifshehadnotknownsheweregoingtosayit.Shedidnotsay,“MesterColin,”butjust“dearlad”quitesuddenly.ShemighthavesaidittoDickoninthesamewayifshehadseensomethinginhisfacewhichtouchedher.Colinlikedit.
“AreyousurprisedbecauseIamsowell?”heasked.
