careful, 'because when you were born the garden door was locked and the key was buried. And I know that was ten
years ago.'
Colin sat up in bed and looked very interested. 'What door? Who locked it? Where's the key? I want to see it. Ill make the servants tell me where it is. They'll take me there
and you can come too.'
'Oh, please! Don't - don't do that!' cried Mary. Colin stared at her. 'Don't you want to see it?'
'Yes, but if you make them open the door, it will never be a secret again. You see, if only we know about it, if we - if we can find the key, we can go and play there every day. We
can help the garden come alive again. And no one will know about i t - except us!'
'I see,' said Colin slowly. 'Yes, I'd like that. It'll be our secret. I've never had a secret before.'
'And perhaps,' added Mary cleverly, 'we can find a boy to push you in your wheelchair, if you can't walk, and we
can go there together without any other people. You'll feel better outside. I know I do.'
'I'd like that,' he said dreamily. 'I think I'd like fresh air, in a secret garden.'
Then Mary told him about the moor, and Dickon, and Ben Weatherstaff, and the robin, and Colin listened to it all
with great interest. He began to smile and look much happier.
'I like having you here,' he said. 'You must come and see me every day. But I'm tired now.'
Meeting Colin
'I'll sing you a song. My servant Kamala used to do that in India,' said Mary, and very soon Colin was asleep.
The next afternoon Mary visited Colin again, and he seemed very pleased to see her. He had sent his nurse away and had told nobody about Mary's visit. Mary had not told anybody either. They read some of his books together, and told each other stories. They were enjoying themselves and laughing loudly when suddenly the door opened. Dr Craven and Mrs Medlock came in. They almost fell over in
surprise.
'What's happening here?' asked Dr Craven.
Colin sat up straight. To Mary he looked just like an
Indian prince. 'This is my cousin, Mary Lennox,' he said
calmly. 'I like her. She must visit me often.'
'Oh, I'm sorry, sir,' said poor Mrs Medlock to the
To Mary he looked just like an Indian prince.