he inquired.

"I haven't asked anybody yet," said Mary, hesitating.

"Well, I wouldn't ask th' head gardener. He's too grand, Mr. Roach is."

"I've never seen him," said Mary. "I've only seen under-gardeners and
Ben Weatherstaff."

"If I was you, I'd ask Ben Weatherstaff," advised Martha. "He's not half
as bad as he looks, for all he's so crabbed. Mr. Craven lets him do what
he likes because he was here when Mrs. Craven was alive, an' he used to
make her laugh. She liked him. Perhaps he'd find you a corner somewhere
out o' the way."

"If it was out of the way and no one wanted it, no one _could_ mind my
having it, could they?" Mary said anxiously.

"There wouldn't be no reason," answered Martha. "You wouldn't do no
harm."

Mary ate her dinner as quickly as she could and when she rose from the
table she was going to run to her room to put on her hat again, but
Martha stopped her.

"I've got somethin' to tell you," she said. "I thought I'd let you eat
your dinner first. Mr. Craven came back this mornin' and I think he
wants to see you."

Mary turned quite pale.

"Oh!" she said. "Why! Why! He didn't want to see me when I came. I heard
Pitcher say he didn't."

"Well," explained Martha, "Mrs. Medlock says it's because o' mother. She
was walkin' to Thwaite village an' she met him. She'd never spoke to him
before, but Mrs. Craven had been to our cottage two or three times. He'd
forgot, but mother hadn't an' she made bold to stop him. I don't know
what she said to him about you but she said somethin' as put him in th'
mind to see you before he goes away again, to-morrow."

"Oh!" cried Mary, "is he going away to-morrow? I am so glad!"

"He's goin' for a long time. He mayn't come back till autumn or winter.
He's goin' to travel in foreign places. He's always doin' it."

"Oh! I'm so glad--so glad!" said Mary thankfully.

If he did not come back until winter, or even autumn, there would be
time to watch the secret garden come alive. Even if he found out then
and took it away from her she would have had that much at least.

"When do you think he will want to see--"

She did not finish the sentence, because the door opened, and Mrs.
Medlock walked in. She had on her best black dress and cap, and her
collar was fastened with a large brooch with a picture of a man's face
on it. It was a colored photograph of Mr. Medlock who had died years
ago, and she always wore it when she was dressed up. She looked nervous
and