he lived in the mysterious garden and knew
all about it.

Perhaps it was because she had nothing whatever
to do that she thought so much of the deserted
garden. She was curious about it and
wanted to see what it was like. Why had Mr.
Archibald Craven buried the key? If he had liked
his wife so much why did he hate her garden?
She wondered if she should ever see him, but she
knew that if she did she should not like him, and
he would not like her, and that she should only
stand and stare at him and say nothing, though
she should be wanting dreadfully to ask him why
he had done such a queer thing.

"People never like me and I never like people,"
she thought. "And I never can talk as the Crawford
children could. They were always talking
and laughing and making noises."

She thought of the robin and of the way he
seemed to sing his song at her, and as she remembered
the tree-top he perched on she stopped rather
suddenly on the path.

"I believe that tree was in the secret garden -- I
feel sure it was," she said. "There was a wall
round the place and there was no door."

She walked back into the first kitchen-garden
she had entered and found the old man digging
there. She went and stood beside him and

[[46]]

p045 _ -chap- _ toc-1 _ p046w _ toc-2 _ +chap+ _ p047

v?