you--care about gardens so much," he said slowly.

"I didn't know about them in India," said Mary. "I was always ill and
tired and it was too hot. I sometimes made little beds in the sand and
stuck flowers in them. But here it is different."

Mr. Craven got up and began to walk slowly across the room.

"A bit of earth," he said to himself, and Mary thought that somehow she
must have reminded him of something. When he stopped and spoke to her
his dark eyes looked almost soft and kind.

"You can have as much earth as you want," he said. "You remind me of
some one else who loved the earth and things that grow. When you see a
bit of earth you want," with something like a smile, "take it, child,
and make it come alive."

"May I take it from anywhere--if it's not wanted?"

"Anywhere," he answered. "There! You must go now, I am tired." He
touched the bell to call Mrs. Medlock. "Good-by. I shall be away all
summer."

Mrs. Medlock came so quickly that Mary thought she must have been
waiting in the corridor.

"Mrs. Medlock," Mr. Craven said to her, "now I have seen the child I
understand what Mrs. Sowerby meant. She must be less delicate before
she begins lessons. Give her simple, healthy food. Let her run wild
in the garden. Don't look after her too much. She needs liberty and
fresh air and romping about. Mrs. Sowerby is to come and see her now
and then and she may sometimes go to the cottage."

Mrs. Medlock looked pleased. She was relieved to hear that she need
not "look after" Mary too much. She had felt her a tiresome charge and
had indeed seen as little of her as she dared. In addition to this she
was fond of Martha's mother.

"Thank you, sir," she said. "Susan Sowerby and me went to school
together and she's as sensible and good-hearted a woman as you'd find
in a day's walk. I never had any children myself and she's had twelve,
and there never was healthier or better ones. Miss Mary can get no
harm from them. I'd always take Susan Sowerby's advice about children
myself. She's what you might call healthy-minded--if you understand
me."

"I understand," Mr. Craven answered. "Take Miss Mary away now and send
Pitcher to me."

When Mrs. Medlock left her at the end of her own corridor Mary flew
back to her room. She found Martha waiting there. Martha had, in
fact, hurried back after she had removed the dinner service.

"I can have my garden!" cried Mary. "I may have it where I like! I am