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“
You
’
ll
go
by
yourself
,
”
she
answered
.
“
You
’
ll
have
to
learn
to
play
like
other
children
does
when
they
haven
’
t
got
sisters
and
brothers
.
Our
Dickon
goes
off
on
th
’
moor
by
himself
an
’
plays
for
hours
.
That
’
s
how
he
made
friends
with
th
’
pony
.
He
’
s
got
sheep
on
th
’
moor
that
knows
him
,
an
’
birds
as
comes
an
’
eats
out
of
his
hand
.
However
little
there
is
to
eat
,
he
always
saves
a
bit
o
’
his
bread
to
coax
his
pets
.
”
It
was
really
this
mention
of
Dickon
which
made
Mary
decide
to
go
out
,
though
she
was
not
aware
of
it
.
There
would
be
,
birds
outside
though
there
would
not
be
ponies
or
sheep
.
They
would
be
different
from
the
birds
in
India
and
it
might
amuse
her
to
look
at
them
.
Martha
found
her
coat
and
hat
for
her
and
a
pair
of
stout
little
boots
and
she
showed
her
her
way
downstairs
.
“
If
tha
’
goes
round
that
way
tha
’
ll
come
to
th
’
gardens
,
”
she
said
,
pointing
to
a
gate
in
a
wall
of
shrubbery
.
“
There
’
s
lots
o
’
flowers
in
summer
-
time
,
but
there
’
s
nothin
’
bloomin
’
now
.
”
She
seemed
to
hesitate
a
second
before
she
added
,
“
One
of
th
’
gardens
is
locked
up
.
No
one
has
been
in
it
for
ten
years
.
”
“
Why
?
”
asked
Mary
in
spite
of
herself
.
Here
was
another
locked
door
added
to
the
hundred
in
the
strange
house
.
“
Mr
.
Craven
had
it
shut
when
his
wife
died
so
sudden
.
He
won
’
t
let
no
one
go
inside
.
It
was
her
garden
.
He
locked
th
’
door
an
’
dug
a
hole
and
buried
th
’
key
.
There
’
s
Mrs
.
Medlock
’
s
bell
ringing
—
I
must
run
.
”
After
she
was
gone
Mary
turned
down
the
walk
which
led
to
the
door
in
the
shrubbery
.
She
could
not
help
thinking
about
the
garden
which
no
one
had
been
into
for
ten
years
.
She
wondered
what
it
would
look
like
and
whether
there
were
any
flowers
still
alive
in
it
.
When
she
had
passed
through
the
shrubbery
gate
she
found
herself
in
great
gardens
,
with
wide
lawns
and
winding
walks
with
clipped
borders
.
There
were
trees
,
and
flower
-
beds
,
and
evergreens
clipped
into
strange
shapes
,
and
a
large
pool
with
an
old
gray
fountain
in
its
midst
.
But
the
flower
-
beds
were
bare
and
wintry
and
the
fountain
was
not
playing
.
This
was
not
the
garden
which
was
shut
up
.
How
could
a
garden
be
shut
up
?
You
could
always
walk
into
a
garden
.
She
was
just
thinking
this
when
she
saw
that
,
at
the
end
of
the
path
she
was
following
,
there
seemed
to
be
a
long
wall
,
with
ivy
growing
over
it
.
She
was
not
familiar
enough
with
England
to
know
that
she
was
coming
upon
the
kitchen
-
gardens
where
the
vegetables
and
fruit
were
growing
.
She
went
toward
the
wall
and
found
that
there
was
a
green
door
in
the
ivy
,
and
that
it
stood
open
.
This
was
not
the
closed
garden
,
evidently
,
and
she
could
go
into
it
.
She
went
through
the
door
and
found
that
it
was
a
garden
with
walls
all
round
it
and
that
it
was
only
one
of
several
walled
gardens
which
seemed
to
open
into
one
another
.
She
saw
another
open
green
door
,
revealing
bushes
and
pathways
between
beds
containing
winter
vegetables
.
Fruit
-
trees
were
trained
flat
against
the
wall
,
and
over
some
of
the
beds
there
were
glass
frames
.
The
place
was
bare
and
ugly
enough
,
Mary
thought
,
as
she
stood
and
stared
about
her
.
It
might
be
nicer
in
summer
when
things
were
green
,
but
there
was
nothing
pretty
about
it
now
.
