And this is the ivy the wind blew back," and she
took hold of the hanging green curtain.

"Oh! is it -- is it!" gasped Colin.

"And here is the handle, and here is the door.
Dickon push him in -- push him in quickly!"

And Dickon did it with one strong, steady, splendid
push.

But Colin had actually dropped back against
his cushions, even though he gasped with delight,
and he had covered his eyes with his hands and
held them there shutting out everything until they
were inside and the chair stopped as if by magic
and the door was closed. Not till then did he take
them away and look round and round and round
as Dickon and Mary had done. And over walls
and earth and trees and swinging sprays and tendrils
the fair green veil of tender little leaves had
crept, and in the grass under the trees and the
gray urns in the alcoves and here and there everywhere
were touches or splashes of gold and purple
and white and the trees were showing pink and
snow above his head and there were fluttering of
wings and faint sweet pipes and humming and
scents and scents. And the sun fell warm upon
his face like a hand with a lovely touch. And in
wonder Mary and Dickon stood and stared at him.
He looked so strange and different because a pink

[[266]]

p265 _ -chap- _ toc-1 _ p266w _ toc-2 _ +chap+ _ p267

v?