The secret garden — Chapter Five The strange cry

　　The mystery of the garden gave Mary something to think about. She began to feel glad that she had come to Misselthwaite Manor. In India, she had always been too hot and bored to care about things. But now that she was outside in the fresh, cold air, her mind mad body felt a little better.

　　Mary stayed outside all day. When she went inside, she felt hungry and tired, but good. She sat down to eat dinner, and ate everything on her plate. She did not feel angry when Martha talked to her. Mary felt it was nice to hear her talk.

　　"Why did Mr. Craven hate the garden?" Mary asked her. She had finished dinner and was sitting by the fireplace.

　　Martha smiled. "Are you still thinking about that garden?" she asked. "I knew you would. 1 was the same way, when I first arrived here." She sat down and made herself comfortable.

　　"Now listen," Martha said. "Mrs. Medlock said that we cannot talk about it. There are a lot of secrets in this house; lots of things we can"t talk about. That"s Mr. Craven"s orders. He doesn"t want servants talking about his problems. The truth is that Mr. Craven wouldn"t be like he is today, if it wasn"t for that garden. The garden was Mrs. Craven"s. She had the garden made, and she loved it. She and Mr. Craven used to go into the garden, shut the door, and not come out for hours. Well, in the garden there was a rose tree with a branch that looked just like a chair. Mrs. Craven liked to sit in this tree and read. One day, she was sitting there and the branch broke, and she fell. She was hurt very badly, and the next day she died. The doctors thought Mr. Craven would go crazy and die too. His wife was the only person he had ever loved. That"s why he hates the garden. He shut the door and locked it. Then he threw away the key."

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