were dead or alive, but their thin gray or brown
branches and sprays looked like a sort of hazy
mantle spreading over everything, walls, and trees,
and even brown grass, where they had fallen from
their fastenings and run along the ground. It
was this hazy tangle from tree to tree which made
it all look so mysterious. Mary had thought it
must be different from other gardens which had
not been left all by themselves so long; and indeed
it was different from any other place she had ever
seen in her life.

"How still it is!" she whispered. "How
still!"

Then she waited a moment and listened at the
stillness. The robin, who had flown to his tree-top,
was still as all the rest. He did not even flutter
his wings; he sat without stirring, and looked
at Mary.

"No wonder it is still," she whispered again.
"I am the first person who has spoken in here
for ten years."

She moved away from the door, stepping as
softly as if she were afraid of awakening some
one. She was glad that there was grass under her
feet and that her steps made no sounds. She
walked under one of the fairy-like gray arches between
the trees and looked up at the sprays and
tendrils which formed them.

[[98]]

p097 _ -chap- _ toc-1 _ p098w _ toc-2 _ +chap+ _ p099

v?