Chapter 1
Misselthwaite Again.
I yearn for you my north country
for your moors and fells,
where lapwings rise into
cerulean skies,
and the curlews cry.
Where the melting snows in Spring,
charge the becks to sing, and stir
the mossy banks to green.
It was naturally thought by Lord Craven (and perhaps a bit more by Mrs. Medlock) that the fast growing young Mary Lennox had finally become quite strong enough for a governess.
Mary had tried with all her might to convince Lord Craven that she still had more room to get stronger and that she needed more time to stay in the gardens and the moors but Lord Craven was not to be debated with.
Mary certainly did not want to have to conform to rules of a silly governess, to sit still like a lady, to study about the kings and queens.
"Who might I ask, needed to learn about the kings and queens when you could be the king or queen of your own garden?" She would occasionally think to herself.
On top of that, to have such boring lessons on keeping your posture lady-like or how to be holding a teacup.
Those sort of things didn't matter as much to Mary as the outdoors did.
She wanted to be free in the grass, to run with bare feet across the moors.
She wanted to play and laugh and scream with no one to tell her to do anything otherwise, she yearned to be in her garden all day. Her governess Miss Crawford was just as bad as Mrs. Medlock, if not even worse.
She did not like Mary very much and would constantly scorn her and complain to Lord Craven that Mary was much too headstrong a girl with bold opinions and very little manors or care for femininity and class. (Mrs. Crawford thought she was a very high and mighty woman, and always thought of herself as a high class lady even though she would always beg Lord Craven to give her early pay so she could send it off to her poor mother.)
Mary would sometimes be sitting in the presence of company and burst out into a passion about being so bored and tired of talking about the things in fashion, the outrageous way so-and-so looked with her hair up in a tangle on top her head while riding in her carriage yesterday, or why the poor always got in the way.
Susan Sowerby thought otherwise, Mary had been very helpful and kind to Mrs. Sowerby's family and she loved to help with anything she could.
She would always bring a little lunch to Dickon in the gardens and she would on occasion walk or, if it was Martha's day off they would both venture before dawn to the cottage of 14 people and help to water their small garden, bake bread and babysit the young children while Mrs. Sowerby cooked or did laundry.
She enjoyed talking to Jane, the second oldest Sowerby girl, who was about the same age as her and Mary helped her with some schooling and she taught her how to read and do a bit of arithmetic. She brought berries and vegetables from the Manor's gardens to Thwaite, the town right outside Misselthwaite Manor to help feed the poor.
A large issue that raided Mary's thoughts was why the terrible war was taking all of the young people away and never letting them return. She had been both anxious and afraid to hear anything about the war and what was happening for she knew that if it continued to go on, more and more young men would be entering the war.
Even though she could beg Lord Craven to never let young Colin enter into the war, she knew that she would be helpless in asking Dickon not to sign up. The war had affected much of the country in it's time and in the early months of this year; 1915 the war was still going strong, earlier that spring had begun the aerial bombing of Germany over British soil using the newly invented "Zeppelins" poison gases were being used for the first time and many ships were sunk in British waters.
It was unconditionally hard for Mary to never get upset about it, and she felt completely useless. To make herself feel better, she would on occasion volunteer in town at the local rehabilitation center strictly doing laundry or making meals for wounded soldiers since she couldn't stand the sight of blood or wounded human beings.
Without her noticing, the moors had been given the chance to thoroughly travel through her wild blood and make her grow into a beautiful and strong willed young lady.
She had stared up into the radiant Yorkshire skies just long enough for them nurture her spirit and it gave her eyes a wild glittery sparkle.
She ran through the winds whenever they were strong and somehow it gave her hair a soft wispy shine.
She had sniffed the earth and the flowers so that they would give her cheeks life and color.
Miss Mary Lennox was now quite strong and was growing up faster than life.
Colin had grown just as fast as Mary, and had become quite a handsome tall and smart young man and he had indeed kept up with his Scientific Experiments and Lectures. He spent the better half of his time buried deep in all different kinds of books and writing in his journal, finding new things out about anything and everything he could lay eyes on.
He had also become very athletic and was now doing some sort of sport once a day, his legs had grown astonishingly strong and long. His daily sport might perhaps be playing tag in the gardens with Mary, riding his favorite horse, playing football with Dickon, or any other exercise a young growing boy might enjoy doing.
But his favorite of all things was being in his mothers garden and he loved being reminded of her there through the soft scents of roses that wafted through the air in a breeze, or the sound of the birds chirping in the morning. He had a new painting done of his mother on the door of the garden, for everyone to see as soon as they entered.
He mostly spent his garden time patting the dirt around a budding plant or touching the petals of the roses while he was thinking. He loved talking to Ben Weatherstaff, Mary and Dickon about his Experiments there too.
He was always in deep thought about something and the garden and outdoor air had helped him to think deeper about it. Lord Craven was proud of his young growing son, he would always glow and smile at Colin, or pat his head in affection.
He loved to see him so busy at work and he couldn't keep up with the growing mind, so decided on sending him to college early despite the issues with the war, for his intelligence was advancing and he didn't want to miss a chance of Colin becoming a very popular scientist.
Colin at first, had wanted to go war and help fight for his country but Lord Craven told him that he was very much too young to be out fighting and getting into dangerous situations. Colin gave up his efforts to convince her father to let him go and settled on going to Leeds to study which was close to home, he would be leaving in the fall.
Dickon, being older of the two cousins had been first to grow up and being 17, he wasn't much of a child anymore. Being the oldest boy in a cottage of 12 siblings, Dickon knew his responsibility to his family to bring in some money for tomorrows supper.
Shyly and respectfully, he asked Lord Craven for a job in the gardens so he could be among the things he treasured and loved most; his friends and the plants. Lord Craven thought of Dickon as a second son, and he kindly gave him a good job working as under gardener to Ben Weatherstaff and would in future if he wished, take his job when Ben Weatherstaff was to retire.
He had grown very tall and broad for a 17 year old and his rusty curled hair had turned just a bit darker with his maturing years; which now was also becoming a bit tamer and longer. It sat on his head in little waves instead of curls, which gave him a handsomeness that would be as if he were a gentleman from London. He always covered this head of hair with a tweed brown hat.
His Yorkshire was just as broad as it had always been and his smile just as keen and animated as ever. He never had never really talked much, and his personality was more quiet and watchful.
Colin didn't mind it, he could tell him all the lectures in the world and Dickon would only smile and listen very intently. Dickon was one of those unique people that devoured every piece of information that went through his ears and kept it stored very carefully inside his head. (Very unlike Mary who liked to share her opinions on any matter that was spoken about.)
He had taken up to learning a thing or two and borrowed some learning books from the Manor library. His reading abilities were limited and some words he didn't understand, which made him frustrated at times and he turned to Mary for help. Mary was more than happy to help him and would take it into her own hands to arrange for them to study.
She would sit on a swing in her beautiful blue dress and glittery expression and proceeded to swing back and forth to let her dress flow with her movement while she had a book in her hand. Dickon sat on the ledge next to her and listened to her read the words for him and he would reply with the answer to what it meant, sometimes purposely saying the wrong answer just to tease Mary and make her answer it correctly for him.
Once, she had been asking what a certain word meant and she noticed Dickon wasn't paying attention to her, so she snapped her finger at him which made a loud sound and seemed to put him out of a dream. He apologized for it and he gave her a playful look. Mary had gotten embarrassed and colored deeply.
She hid her face in the book she had been reading and her body twitched slightly as she giggled to herself. Dickon had also become embarrassed, reddened and stood up and paced back and forth a few times before he cleared his throat and told Mary he forgot to do something and left.
Mary was smarter than most of the young girls Dickon had known and he admired it. He would think about her and how well and full of life she looked while she swung. How an intense glow came over her face while she read, and how the words left her mouth like a singing bird. Or how she could eat so many biscuits for snacks and still be as thin as ever.
Dickon had work off early one Monday and he walked home to enjoy some time with his brothers and sisters. As he came to the back kitchen door of his family's cottage he heard sweet singing and laughing from within. He peeked through the door and eyed Mary, who was standing at a table with his mother kneading bread. Mrs. Sowerby was teaching her a Yorkshire tune, which as he came up to the door, heard her singing some of the words:
"His cheeks are like roses, his eyes like two sloes,
He's proper and he's handsome wherever he goes,
And besides he's good-natured and comely to view,
He's my bonny Scotch lad with his bonnet so blue."
It was his mothers favorite song for Mr. Sowerby of Scottish ancestry, was in the Military in his youth and it reminded her of their younger days together. Mary had learned it very well and he listened intently with a blush. As he became more visible within the door Mary looked up at him and smiled which made his heart beat quick and his face reddened with heat and color. Mary motioned him to join them and Mrs. Sowerby, turning to put the bread into the oven saw Dickon and ran to hug him.
She looked up at him and asked him how his day was at the Manor. Everything was just as usual. She told him to sit and rest and perhaps read the papers? Here is some tea for you dear and take your shoes off before laying on the couch you horrible boy! She turned back to Mary and told her that she would be saying the same thing when she was married and had so many children.
Mary blushed at the remark and tried not to glance at Dickon who had heard his mother as well and put the newspaper up to his face to hide the reddening of his cheeks and the smile on his face, which turned to a frown when he seen the column on the first page reading "Your Country Needs You!" a shadow came over Dickons face and a knot started to tighten in his stomach.
Thank you for reading! I really enjoyed writing this chapter, it really brought me back into the characters and how they might have grown. Any questions, comments, concerns are welcome! I do not own the Secret Garden book, that work belongs to Francis Hodgson Burnett. Also, the poem at the beginning of the story belongs to Alfreda Mackenzie.
Also this is my first fanfiction so I hope it's not too amateur!