evere in her manner.

"It was something between a sneeze and a cough," she replied with
reproachful dignity, "and it got into my throat."

"But" she said afterward to Colin, "I couldn't stop myself. It just
burst out because all at once I couldn't help remembering that last big
potato you ate and the way your mouth stretched when you bit through
that thick lovely crust with jam and clotted cream on it."

"Is there any way in which those children can get food secretly?" Dr.
Craven inquired of Mrs. Medlock.

"There's no way unless they dig it out of the earth or pick it off the
trees," Mrs. Medlock answered. "They stay out in the grounds all day and
see no one but each other. And if they want anything different to eat
from what's sent up to them they need only ask for it."

"Well," said Dr. Craven, "so long as going without food agrees with them
we need not disturb ourselves. The boy is a new creature."

"So is the girl," said Mrs. Medlock. "She's begun to be downright pretty
since she's filled out and lost her ugly little sour look. Her hair's
grown thick and healthy looking and she's got a bright color. The
glummest, ill-natured little thing she used to be and now her and Master
Colin laugh together like a pair of crazy young ones. Perhaps they're
growing fat on that."

"Perhaps they are," said Dr. Craven. "Let them laugh."

CHAPTER XXV

THE CURTAIN

And the secret garden bloomed and bloomed and every morning revealed
new miracles. In the robin's nest there were Eggs and the robin's
mate sat upon them keeping them warm with her feathery little breast
and careful wings. At first she was very nervous and the robin himself
was indignantly watchful. Even Dickon did not go near the close-grown
corner in those days, but waited until by the quiet working of some
mysterious spell he seemed to have conveyed to the soul of the little
pair that in the garden there was nothing which was not quite like
themselves--nothing which did not understand the wonderfulness of what
was happening to them--the immense, tender, terrible, heart-breaking
beauty and solemnity of Eggs. If there had been one person in that
garden who had not known through all his or her innermost being that if
an Egg were taken away or hurt the whole world would whirl round and
crash through space and come to an end--if there had been even one who
did not feel it and act accordingly there could have been no happiness
even in that golden springtime