Таємничий сад
VI. “There Was Someone Crying—there Was!”
”
Surelynootherlittlegirleverspentsuchaqueermorning.Itseemedasiftherewasnooneinallthehugeramblinghousebutherownsmallself,wanderingaboutupstairsanddown,throughnarrowpassagesandwideones,whereitseemedtoherthatnoonebutherselfhadeverwalked.Sincesomanyroomshadbeenbuilt,peoplemusthavelivedinthem,butitallseemedsoemptythatshecouldnotquitebelieveittrue.
Itwasnotuntilsheclimbedtothesecondfloorthatshethoughtofturningthehandleofadoor.Allthedoorswereshut,asMrs.Medlockhadsaidtheywere,butatlastsheputherhandonthehandleofoneofthemandturnedit.Shewasalmostfrightenedforamomentwhenshefeltthatitturnedwithoutdifficultyandthatwhenshepusheduponthedooritselfitslowlyandheavilyopened.Itwasamassivedoorandopenedintoabigbedroom.Therewereembroideredhangingsonthewall,andinlaidfurnituresuchasshehadseeninIndiastoodabouttheroom.Abroadwindowwithleadedpaneslookedoutuponthemoor;andoverthemantelwasanotherportraitofthestiff,plainlittlegirlwhoseemedtostareathermorecuriouslythanever.
“Perhapssheslepthereonce,”saidMary.“Shestaresatmesothatshemakesmefeelqueer.”
Afterthatsheopenedmoredoorsandmore.Shesawsomanyroomsthatshebecamequitetiredandbegantothinkthattheremustbeahundred,thoughshehadnotcountedthem.Inallofthemtherewereoldpicturesoroldtapestrieswithstrangescenesworkedonthem.Therewerecuriouspiecesoffurnitureandcuriousornamentsinnearlyallofthem.
