Don't cry,' said Dickon gently. 'Where is it?' '
Come with me and I'll show you,' said Miss Mary.
They went to the secret garden and entered it together. Dickon walked round, looking at everything.
'Martha told me about this place, but I never thought I'd see it,' he said. 'It's wonderful!'
'What about the roses?' asked Mary worriedly. 'Are they still alive? What do you think?'
'Look at these shoots on the branches. Most of them are alive ail right.' He took out his knife and cut away some of the dead wood from the rose trees. Mary showed him the work she had done in the garden, and they talked as they cut and cleared.
'Dickon,' said Mary suddenly, 'I like you. I never thought I'd like as many as five people!'
'Only five!' laughed Dickon.
He did look funny when he laughed, thought Mary.
'Yes, your mother, Martha, the robin, Ben, and you.' Then she asked him a question in Yorkshire dialect, because that was his language.
'Does tha' like me?' was her question.
'Of course! I likes thee wonderful!' replied Dickon, a big smile on his round face. Mary had never been so happy.
When she went back to the house for her lunch, she told Martha about Dickon's visit.
'I've got news for you too,' said Martha. 'Mr Craven's come home, and wants to see you! He's going away again tomorrow, for several months.'