[Helps MARY to put on her coat and hat.]

If tha' goes round that way [leading her to the door] tha' will come to the gardens. There are a lot of flowers in summer-time, but there's nothing blooming now. [Hesitating.] One of the gardens is locked up. No one has been in it for ten years.

MARY. Why?

MARTHA. Mr. Craven had it shut when his wife died so sudden. He won't let any one go inside. It was her garden. He locked the door and dug a hole and buried the key. There's Mrs. Medlock's bell ringing-I must run. [Goes out.]

SECOND SCENE

[In the garden.]

MARY. [Peering around.] How different England is from India. In India, servants don't dare to say anything against your wishes. But in England, the servants talk to you as if they were your equals. Martha, for instance, dared to talk to me in a somewhat ordering manner, and yet I am not angry with her. I wonder when she speaks to me again like that, if I could slap her face like I did to my Ayah. I think not. I'm rather afraid she'd slap back. I wonder how it is that I'm not sorry that the cholera broke out and everybody except me died and I had to come here to Misselthwaite, my uncle's home. What a strange house it is—a hundred locked rooms and a garden that 's locked too. I should like to see that garden. But who is that? [BEN WEATHERSTAFF enters with spade in hand.] What is this place?

BEN WEATHERSTAFF. One of the kitchen gardens.

MARY. What is that? [Pointing.]

BEN WEATHERSTAFF. Another of them.

There's an

other on the other side of the wall and there 's the orchard t' other side of that.

MARY. Can I go into them?

BEN WEATHERSTAFF.

to see.

If tha' likes. But there's nowt [MARY moves off to explore the other gardens.]

MARY. [Suddenly the robin flies near her and begins to sing. A bird whistle may be used to represent the robin.] Oh, oh, it 's not like the birds in India! It's up in that tree now. I believe that tree is in the secret garden-I feel sure it is. There is a wall round the place and there is no door. [Walks back to where BEN WEATHERSTAFF is working.] I have been in the other gardens.

BEN WEATHERSTAFF. There was nothing to prevent thee.

MARY. I went into the orchard.

BEN WEATHERSTAFF.

bite thee.

There was no dog at the door to

MARY. There was no door there into the other garden.

BEN WEATHERSTAFF. [Stops digging. Speaks in very gruff voice.] What garden?

MARY. The one on the other side of the wall. 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.

BEN WEATHERSTAFF. [Smiling-gives α low soft whistle. A soft little rushing flight through the air is heard and the bird with the red breast alighted on the clod of earth near the old man's feet.] Here he is. Where has tha' been, tha' cheeky little beggar. I've not seen thee before to-day. [Robin put his tiny head on one side and looked up at the gardener.]

MARY. [Whispering.] Will he always come when you call him?

BEN WEATHERSTAFF. Aye, that he will. I've known him ever since he was a fledgling. He came out of the nest in the other garden and when first he flew over the wall he was too weak to fly back for a few days and we got friendly. When he went over the wall again the rest of the brood was gone and he was lonely and he came back to me.

MARY. What kind of a bird is he?

He

BEN WEATHERSTAFF. Does n't tha' know? He's a robin redbreast and they 're the friendliest, curiousest birds alive. They 're almost as friendly as dogs-if you know how to get on with them. Watch him pecking about there and looking around at us. He knows we are talking about him. [Chuckling.] He's a conceited one. likes to hear folk talk about him. And curious-bless me, there never was his like for curiosity and meddling. He 's always coming to see what I'm planting. He knows all the things Mester Craven never troubles himself to find out. He's the head gardener, he is.

MARY. [Stepping nearer the robin.] I'm lonely.

BEN WEATHERSTAFF. [Pushing his cap back and staring at her.] Art tha' the little wench from India?

MARY. Yes.

BEN WEATHERSTAFF. Then no wonder tha 'rt lonely. Tha 'lt be lonelier before tha 's done. [Takes up spade and begins to dig.]

MARY. What is your name?

BEN WEATHERSTAFF. Ben Weatherstaff-I'm lonely myself except when he 's with me. He's the only friend I've got.

MARY. I have no friends at all. I never had. My Ayah didn't like me. I never played with any one.

BEN WEATHERSTAFF. [Bluntly.] Tha' and me are a good bit alike. We were wove out of the same cloth. We're neither of us good looking and we 're both of us as sour as we look. We've got the same nasty tempers, both of us, I'll warrant.

MARY. [Amazed.] Sour-nasty temper-[The robin breaks out into a beautiful song]- Oh, what did he do that for?

BEN WEATHERSTAFF. [Laughing.] He's made up his mind to make friends with thee. Bless me if he hasn't taken a fancy to thee.

MARY. [Softly.] To me? [Moves nearer to robin.] Would you make friends with me? Would you?

BEN WEATHERSTAFF. Why, tha' said that as nice and human as if tha' was a real child instead of a sharp old woman. Tha' said it almost like Dickon talks to his wild things on the moor.

MARY. Do you know Dickon?

BEN WEATHERSTAFF. Everybody knows him. Dickon 's wandering about everywhere. The very blackberries and heather-bells know him. I warrant the foxes show him where their cubs lie and the skylarks don't hide their nests from him. [The robin with a little shake of his wings flew away.]

MARY. He has flown over the wall! He has flown across the other wall-into the garden where there is no door!

BEN WEATHERSTAFF. He lives there. He came out of the egg there. If he 's courting he 's making up to some young madam of a robin that lives among the old rose-trees there.

MARY. Rose-trees! Are there rose-trees?

BEN WEATHERSTAFF. [Digging.] There was ten years

ago.

MARY. I should like to see them. Where is the green door? There must be a door somewhere.

BEN WEATHERSTAFF. [Gruffly.] There was ten years ago, but there is n't now.

MARY. No door! There must be.

BEN WEATHERSTAFF. None as any one can find, and none as is any one's business. Don't you be a meddlesome wench and poke your nose where it's no cause to go. Here, I must go on with my work. Get you gone and play. I've no more time. [Throws spade over his shoulder, and walks off.]