That afternoon Dr. Craven came to see Colin.
He always visited after a temper tantrum.
"Last night Mary flew at Colin like a cat," Mrs. Medlock explained as she led the doctor upstairs.
"She stamped her feet and ordered him to stop screaming.
Somehow she startled him so that he stopped.
And today . . . well, you won't believe your eyes."
In Colin's room he and Mary were talking and laughing over a book.
But as soon as they noticed the adults, the two children grew silent.
"I'm sorry to hear you're ill, my boy," said Dr. Craven.
"I'm much better now. I'm going out in my wheelchair soon, if the weather is good.
I want some fresh air."
Dr. Craven sat down next to him. "I thought you didn't like fresh air."
"I don't when I'm by myself, but Mary is coming with me."
"And so is your nurse, of course."
"No, I won't need the nurse." Colin sounded like a rajah again.
"I'm always better when Mary is with me.
A very strong boy I know will push my wheelchair."
Dr. Craven felt alarmed for a moment.
If Colin got well, then the doctor would lose all chance of inheriting Misselthwaite Manor.
But Dr. Craven was not a bad man. He wouldn't let Colin run into danger.
"This boy who's pushing you must be strong," said Dr. Craven.
"And I must know something about him. Who is he?"
"It's Dickon," said Mary.
She was sure that everyone knew Dickon, and she was right.
"Oh, you'll be safe with him," said Dr. Craven.
"He's as strong as a moor pony."
That afternoon Dr. Craven did not give any medicine or leave instructions for the nurse.
"This certainly is a new state of things," he said to Mrs. Medlock as they went downstairs.
That night Colin slept peacefully for the first time.
He had been awake for only ten minutes the next morning, when Mary ran into his room.
"There's that nice smell again!" cried Colin. "You've been outside!"
"You never saw anything so beautiful," said Mary. "Spring has really come!"
"Has it?" Colin sat up in bed. "Open the window."
When Mary opened the window, fresh smells and birdsongs came pouring into the room.
"Lie on your back and breathe deeply. That's what Dickon does."
Colin did as he was told. He lay still and breathed in the fresh air while Mary described everything she had seen in the garden that morning.
She also told him how Dickon had rescued a newborn lamb whose mother had died.
After a while the nurse brought breakfast for Colin and Mary.
"When do you think Dickon will come?" asked Colin.
"Soon," replied Mary. And in a few minutes, they heard a crow cawing.
"That's Soot," said Mary. "Listen. Do you hear a tiny sound?"
"Oh, yes!" cried Colin.
"That's the lamb. Dickon's coming."
In a moment Martha opened the door and announced, "If you please, sir, here's Dickon and his creatures."
Dickon entered the room, wearing his nicest smile.
The newborn lamb was in his arms, and the fox trotted by his side.
Nut sat on one shoulder and Soot on the other.
Shell's head peeped out of his coat pocket.
Colin sat up slowly and stared. He had never seen anyone like this.
He didn't know what to say.
But Colin's behavior did not make Dickon feel shy or awkward.
Wild creatures always stared at him until they knew him.
He walked over to the sofa and laid the lamb on Colin's lap.
The lamb began to butt its head against Colin's side.
"What is it doing?" asked Colin.
"It wants its mother.
I brought it to you a bit hungry because I knew you'd like to see it feed."
Dickon knelt by the sofa and took a bottle out of his pocket.
Colin watched in amazement while Dickon fed the lamb and told them how he'd discovered it on the moor.
"I heard a weak cry, but couldn't find it.
At last I spotted a bit of white near a rock."
As Dickon talked, Soot flew in and out of the window.
Nut and Shell made trips to the big trees outside and ran up and down the branches.
Captain curled up near Dickon after the lamb fell asleep.
The children looked at some of Colin's books, which were full of pictures of flowers.
"We call that one columbine," said Dickon, pointing to a flower that had a long Latin name in the book.
"There are big clumps of columbine in the garden.
They'll look like a bed of blue and white butterflies when they're blooming."
"I'm going to see them," Colin said firmly.
Mary nodded solemnly. "Yes. Yes, you are," she said.