Disclaimer: The Secret Garden, all characters, places, and related terms belong to Frances Hodgson Burnett
Roses and Wildflowers
It was late and the air was becoming chilly. The sun was low and clouds were rolling in. The silence was broken by the brisk sound of small feet stomping through the grounds. Birds took flight and small animals lifted their heads.
Mary Lennox took no notice as she hurried on her way to her garden. Even in the wonderful open and fresh air, gladly leaving the grand house behind her, her eyes continued to flash with annoyance and anger.
A single white rose was clutched in one of her hands. She glanced down at it with a dark frown. Why did she still have it? Stupid rose. Stupid St. Valentine's Day. And stupid Colin.
He had kept her to himself most of the day, complaining she had forgotten about him stuck in bed with a bad cold when she'd been in the garden all day yesterday with Dickon. Colin had been too happy, in her opinion, when, after listening to her explanation of how she did not care for St. Valentine's Day, he claimed she would not despise it anymore. Then he'd given her the rose.
Mary broke out into a run. She had no desire to like St. Valentine's Day. She had not wanted Colin to give her any roses, nor start that silly talk about marrying her someday. And she certainly had not liked it when he tried to kiss her when she left. He should have asked her permission first. Though even then she would have said no…
Panting, the girl pushed open the wooden door and entered the garden. In a moment she saw that she was alone. Dickon had already gone home. Mary bit her lip and let the rose fall to the ground. Stupid Colin for making her miss seeing Dickon, she grumbled to herself as she moved to one corner of the garden. Her chin trembled, and she blinked her eyes rapidly as the cool wind blew in her face, seemingly scolding her for coming too late. It was getting late, but she wanted to work just for a few minutes, to make the day feel not a total loss.
"I'll see him tomorrow," Mary told herself. The thought did not chase away her disappointment.
The girl halted abruptly when she nearly reached her destination. After staring for a moment, eyes becoming puzzled and curious, Mary slowly walked to her garden tools in the corner of the garden. There was the wheelbarrow with her spade, hoe, small pots, and packets of seeds, all as usual. And yet…
She lifted up from one pot a small bouquet of wildflowers tied with a string of twine. Gently holding the bouquet to her chest, the girl brushed her thumb over the petals of the blossoms wondrously. Closing her eyes, she breathed deeply, and several sweet fragrances filled her nose.
Mary's face glowed as she turned and gazed about her garden, hugging the flowers. "Dickon," she whispered with a secret smile.
THE END