ike her, and that she should only stand and
stare at him and say nothing, though she should be wanting dreadfully
to ask him why he had done such a queer thing.

"People never like me and I never like people," she thought. "And I
never can talk as the Crawford children could. They were always
talking and laughing and making noises."

She thought of the robin and of the way he seemed to sing his song at
her, and as she remembered the tree-top he perched on she stopped
rather suddenly on the path.

"I believe that tree was in the secret garden--I feel sure it was," she
said. "There was a wall round the place and there was no door."

She walked back into the first kitchen-garden she had entered and found
the old man digging there. She went and stood beside him and watched
him a few moments in her cold little way. He took no notice of her and
so at last she spoke to him.

"I have been into the other gardens," she said.

"There was nothin' to prevent thee," he answered crustily.

"I went into the orchard."

"There was no dog at th' door to bite thee," he answered.

"There was no door there into the other garden," said Mary.

"What garden?" he said in a rough voice, stopping his digging for a
moment.

"The one on the other side of the wall," answered Mistress Mary.
"There are trees there--I saw the tops of them. A bird with a red
breast was sitting on one of them and he sang."

To her surprise the surly old weather-beaten face actually changed its
expression. A slow smile spread over it and the gardener looked quite
different. It made her think that it was curious how much nicer a
person looked when he smiled. She had not thought of it before.

He turned about to the orchard side of his garden and began to
whistle--a low soft whistle. She could not understand how such a surly
man could make such a coaxing sound. Almost the next moment a
wonderful thing happened. She heard a soft little rushing flight
through the air--and it was the bird with the red breast flying to
them, and he actually alighted on the big clod of earth quite near to
the gardener's foot.

"Here he is," chuckled the old man, and then he spoke to the bird as if
he were speaking to a child.

"Where has tha' been, tha' cheeky little beggar?" he said. "I've not
seen thee before today. Has tha, begun tha' courtin' this early in th'
season? Tha'rt too forrad."

The bird put his tiny head on one side and looked up at him with his
s