hat other thing Dickon had said. He had gone on rubbing his
rust-red hair in a puzzled way, but a nice comforted look had begun to
grow in his blue eyes.

"Mrs. Craven was a very lovely young lady," he had gone on rather
hesitatingly. "An' mother she thinks maybe she's about Misselthwaite
many a time lookin' after Mester Colin, same as all mothers do when
they're took out o' th' world. They have to come back, tha' sees. Happen
she's been in the garden an' happen it was her set us to work, an' told
us to bring him here."

Mary had thought he meant something about Magic. She was a great
believer in Magic. Secretly she quite believed that Dickon worked Magic,
of course good Magic, on everything near him and that was why people
liked him so much and wild creatures knew he was their friend. She
wondered, indeed, if it were not possible that his gift had brought the
robin just at the right moment when Colin asked that dangerous question.
She felt that his Magic was working all the afternoon and making Colin
look like an entirely different boy. It did not seem possible that he
could be the crazy creature who had screamed and beaten and bitten his
pillow. Even his ivory whiteness seemed to change. The faint glow of
color which had shown on his face and neck and hands when he first got
inside the garden really never quite died away. He looked as if he were
made of flesh instead of ivory or wax.

They saw the robin carry food to his mate two or three times, and it was
so suggestive of afternoon tea that Colin felt they must have some.

"Go and make one of the men servants bring some in a basket to the
rhododendron walk," he said. "And then you and Dickon can bring it
here."

It was an agreeable idea, easily carried out, and when the white cloth
was spread upon the grass, with hot tea and buttered toast and crumpets,
a delightfully hungry meal was eaten, and several birds on domestic
errands paused to inquire what was going on and were led into
investigating crumbs with great activity. Nut and Shell whisked up trees
with pieces of cake and Soot took the entire half of a buttered crumpet
into a corner and pecked at and examined and turned it over and made
hoarse remarks about it until he decided to swallow it all joyfully in
one gulp.

The afternoon was dragging toward its mellow hour. The sun was deepening
the gold of its lances, the bees were going home and the birds were
flying past less often. Dickon and Mary were sittin