re. He liked the mysteriousness of it and did his best,
but in the midst of excited enjoyment it is rather difficult never to
laugh above a whisper.

Every moment of the afternoon was full of new things and every hour the
sunshine grew more golden. The wheeled chair had been drawn back under
the canopy and Dickon had sat down on the grass and had just drawn out
his pipe when Colin saw something he had not had time to notice before.

"That's a very old tree over there, isn't it?" he said.

Dickon looked across the grass at the tree and Mary looked and there was
a brief moment of stillness.

"Yes," answered Dickon, after it, and his low voice had a very gentle
sound.

Mary gazed at the tree and thought.

"The branches are quite gray and there's not a single leaf anywhere,"
Colin went on. "It's quite dead, isn't it?"

"Aye," admitted Dickon. "But them roses as has climbed all over it will
near hide every bit o' th' dead wood when they're full o' leaves an'
flowers. It won't look dead then. It'll be th' prettiest of all."

Mary still gazed at the tree and thought.

"It looks as if a big branch had been broken off," said Colin. "I wonder
how it was done."

"It's been done many a year," answered Dickon. "Eh!" with a sudden
relieved start and laying his hand on Colin. "Look at that robin! There
he is! He's been foragin' for his mate."

Colin was almost too late but he just caught sight of him, the flash of
red-breasted bird with something in his beak. He darted through the
greenness and into the close-grown corner and was out of sight. Colin
leaned back on his cushion again, laughing a little.

"He's taking her tea to her. Perhaps it's five o'clock. I think I'd like
some tea myself."

And so they were safe.

"It was Magic which sent the robin," said Mary secretly to Dickon
afterward. "I know it was Magic." For both she and Dickon had been
afraid Colin might ask something about the tree whose branch had broken
off ten years ago and they had talked it over together and Dickon had
stood and rubbed his head in a troubled way.

"We mun look as if it wasn't no different from th' other trees," he had
said. "We couldn't never tell him how it broke, poor lad. If he says
anything about it we mun--we mun try to look cheerful."

"Aye, that we mun," had answered Mary.

But she had not felt as if she looked cheerful when she gazed at the
tree. She wondered and wondered in those few moments if there was any
reality in t