Таємничий 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.
