The Secret Garden

Nobody  seemed  to  care  about  Mary.  She  was  born  in  India,  where  her  father  was  a  British  official.  He  was  busy  with  his  work  and  her  mother,  who  was  very  beautiful,  spent  all  her  time  going  to  parties.  So  an  Indian  woman,  Kamala,  was  paid  to  take  care  of  the  little  girl.  Mary  was  not  a  pretty  child.

She  had  thin,  angry  face  and  thin  yellow  hair.  She  was  always  giving  orders  to  Kamala  who  had  to  obey.  Mary  never  thought  of  other  people,  but  only  of  herself.  In  fact,  she  was  a  very  selfish,  disagreeable,  bad  tempered  little  girl.  One  very  hot  morning,  when  she  was  about  nine  years  old,  she  woke  up  and  saw  that  instead  of  Kamala  there  was  a  different  Indian  servant  by  her  bed.

Now  Mary  understood  what  was  wrong.  The  terrible  disease  had  already  killed  many  people  in  the  town  and  in  all  the  houses.  People  were  dying  in  Mary's  house.  It  was  Kamala  who  had  just  died.  Later  that  day,  three  more  servants  died  there.

All  through  the  night  and  the  next  day  people  ran  in  and  out  of  the  house,  shouting  and  crying.  Nobody  thought  of  Mary.  She  hid  in  her  bedroom,  frightened  by  the  strange  and  terrible  sounds  that  she  heard  around  her.  Sometimes  she  cried  and  sometimes  she  slept.  When  she  woke  the  next  day,  the  house  was  silent.

Perhaps  the  disease  has  gone,  she  thought,  and  everybody  is  well  again.  I  wonder  who  will  take  care  of  me  instead  of  Kamala?  Why  doesn't  someone  bring  me  some  food?  It's  strange.  The  house  is  so  quiet.

But  just  then  she  heard  min's  voices  in  the  hall.  How  sad,  said  one.  That  beautiful  woman.  There  was  a  child  too,  wasn't  there?  Said  the  other.

Although  none  of  us  ever  saw  her.  Mary  was  standing  in  the  middle  of  her  room.  When  they  opened  the  door  a  few  minutes  later,  the  two  men  jumped  back  in  surprise.  My  name  is  Mary  Lennox,  she  said  crossly.  I  was  asleep  when  everyone  was  ill  and  now  I'm  hungry.

It's  the  child,  the  one  nobody  ever  saw,  said  the  older  man  to  the  other.  They've  all  forgotten  her.  Why  was  I  forgotten?  Asked  Mary  angrily.  Why  has  nobody  come  to  take  care  of  me?

The  younger  man  looked  at  her  very  sadly.  Poor  child,  he  said.  You  see,  there's  nobody  left  alive  in  the  house.  So  nobody  can  come.  In  this  strange  and  sudden  way,  Mary  learnt  that  both  her  mother  and  her  father  had  died.

The  few  servants  who  had  not  died  had  run  away  in  the  night.  No  one  had  remembered  little  Miss  Mary.  She  was  all  alone  because  she  had  never  known  her  parents  well.  She  did  not  miss  them  at  all.  She  only  thought  of  herself  as  she  had  always  done.

Twee  wondered.  I  live?  She  wondered.  I  hope  I'll  stay  with  people  who  will  let  me  do  what  I  want.  At  first  she  was  taken  to  an  English  family  who  had  known  her  parents.

She  hated  their  untidy  house  and  noisy  children  and  preferred  playing  by  herself  in  the  garden.  One  day  she  was  playing  her  favorite  game,  pretending  to  make  a  garden,  when  one  of  the  children,  Basil,  offered  to  help.  Go  away.  Cried  Mary.  I  don't  want  your  help.

For  a  moment  Basil  looked  angry,  and  then  he  began  to  laugh.  He  danced  round  and  round  Mary  and  sang  a  funny  little  song  about  Miss  Mary  and  her  stupid  flowers.  This  made  Mary  very  cross  indeed.  No  one  had  ever  laughed  at  her  so  unkindly.