That's good news.' There was a big smile on Dickon's honest face. 'We all knew he was ill.'
'He's afraid he'll have a crooked back like his father. I think that's what's making him ill.'
'Perhaps we can bring him here and Jet him rest under the trees. That'll do him good. That's what we'll do.'
They had a Jot of gardening and planning to do and Mary did not have time to visit Colin that day. When she
came back to the house in the evening, Martha told her that the servants had had trouble with Colin.
'He's been very bad-tempered all afternoon with all of us, because you didn't come, miss,'
'Well, I was busy. He'll have to learn not to be so selfish,' replied Mary coldly. She forgot how selfish she had been
when she was ill in India. 'I'll go and see him now.'
When she went into his room, he was lying in bed, looking tired. He did not turn to look at her.
'What's the matter with you?' she asked crossly.
'My back aches and my head hurts. Why didn't you
come this afternoon?'
'I was working in the garden with Dickon.'
'I won't let that boy come to the garden if you stay with him instead of talking to me!'
Mary suddenly became very angry. 'If you send Dickon away, I'll never come into this room again!'
'You'll have to, if I say so. I'll make the servants bring you in here.'
'Oh, will you, prince! But no one can make me talk to 40
Colin is afraid
you. I won't look at you. I'll stare at the floor!' 'You selfish girl!' cried Colin.
'You're more selfish than I am. You're the most selfish
boy I've ever met!'
'I'm not as selfish as your fine Dickon! He keeps you
playing outside when he knows I'm ill and alone!'
Mary had never been so furious. 'Dickon is nicer than
any other boy in the world! He's like an angel!'
'An angel! Don't make me laugh! He's just a poor
country boy, with holes in his shoes!'
'He's a thousand times better than you are!'
Colin had never argued with anyone like himself in his life, and in fact it was good for him. But now he was
beginning to feel sorry for himself.
'I'm always ill,' he said, and started to cry. 'I'm sure my
back is a bit crooked. And I'm going to die!' 'No, you're not!' said Mary crossly.
Colin opened his eyes very wide. Nobody had said that to him before. He was angry, but a bit pleased at the same time. 'What do you mean? You know I'm going to die!
Everybody says I'm going to die!'
'I don't believe it!' said Mary in her most disagreeable
voice, 'You just say that to make people feel sorry for you.
You're too horrid to die!'
Colin forgot about his painful back and sat up in bed,
Get out of the room at once!' he shouted, and threw a book at her.
'Im going,' Mary shouted in reply, 'and I won't come