The sun had been shining on the secret garden for nearly a week.
Mary was beginning to like being outdoors, and she was even starting to like the wind.
She could run faster and longer, and she could skip up to a hundred.
Mary was a determined little person, and now that she had something to be interested in, she was very determined.
She worked hard in the garden, digging and pulling up weeds.
Instead of getting tired, she felt happy.
During that week of sunshine, Mary met Ben Weatherstaff outdoors several times.
She always approached quietly because she was afraid he might pick up his tools and leave if he saw her.
"You are like the robin," he said to her one morning when she suddenly appeared at his side.
"I never know when I will see you."
"The robin is friends with me now," said Mary.
Ben stopped working and rested one foot on his shovel.
"How long have you lived here?"
"I think it's been about a month."
"You're starting to look better.
Your face is not so pale, and you look fatter."
"I know I'm fatter," said Mary. "My stockings are getting tighter.
Oh, look, there's the robin!"
The robin hopped closer and closer to Ben.
He spread his wings, flew up in the air, and landed on the handle of Ben's shovel.
Ben looked as if he didn't dare to breathe.
Then the robin flew away, and Ben took a breath.
There was a smile on his face as he went back to digging.
Ben's smile gave Mary the courage to ask a question.
"Do you have a garden of your own?"
Ben shook his head.
"But if you did, what kind of flowers would you plant?"
"Bulbs, but mostly roses. I was a gardener for a young lady who loved roses.
She had a lot in a place she was fond of.
I even saw her bend over and kiss them."
He pulled out a weed and frowned at it. "But that was ten years ago."
"Where is she now?"
"Heaven."
"And what happened to her roses?" asked Mary. "Did they die too?"
"Once or twice a year, I'd go and work at them. I'd prune them and dig around their roots.
But I haven't gone this year. I'm too old to do all that work."
Mary couldn't stop asking questions.
"When the roses have no leaves, how can you tell if they're dead or alive?"
"Look for little brown lumps swelling along the branches.
Then watch them after a warm spring rain and see what happens."
Ben suddenly looked angry. "Why do you care so much about roses?
Go away and play. I'm done talking for today."
Mary skipped down the garden path. She liked Ben even when he was gruff.
Suddenly she stopped skipping.
A red-haired boy sat under a tree, playing a wooden pipe.
But he wasn't the only one there.
A brown squirrel was clinging to the trunk of the tree and watching him.
A pheasant was peeping out from behind a bush.
Two brown rabbits were inching closer to the boy.
All the animals seemed to be listening intently to the music.
"Shh," the boy said to Mary. "Stay quiet or you'll frighten them away."
He finished playing and stood up slowly.
The bird and the animals wandered away, but they didn't seem afraid.
"I'm Dickon," said the boy. "And you must be Miss Mary.
I have your seeds and your tools."
He pointed to a brown package on the ground.
"Let's sit down on this log and look at them," said Mary.
Dickon unwrapped the package.
He showed her a shovel, a rake, a hoe, a fork, and a trowel.
There were also two packets of seeds for blue and white flowers.
"I'll plant these for you myself. Where's your garden?"
Mary didn't know what to say. Could she trust this strange boy?
"Can you keep a secret?" she blurted out at last.
Dickon looked puzzled. "I keep secrets from the other boys all the time.
If I couldn't keep secrets about fox cubs and bird nests, nothing would be safe on the moor."
Mary grabbed his sleeve. "I've stolen a garden," she said quickly.
"Nobody wants it. Nobody cares for it.
Nobody ever goes into it. Maybe everything is dead in it; I don't know.
But they can't take it away from me when I care about it and nobody else does."
And then she burst into tears.
Dickon's eyes grew wide. "Where is this garden?" he said softly.
Mary got up from the log. "Come with me, and I'll show you."