Disclaimer: "The Secret Garden" belongs to Frances Hodgson-Burnett and was published in 1910.
Author's note: I recently listened to an English recording of the book, and here is the result. I welcome all constructive criticism. Please bear with the dates instead of titles, because I couldn't find anything more suitable. Also, English is not my mother tongue – just a warning.
Vignette 1/4
.
1912
When she had lived in India, Mistress Mary Quite Contrary had never wished for friends. She disliked people older than her, she disliked people younger than her, though the worst might have been the children her own age, uncouth creatures in fine clothing like the one who, seeing her in her nursery while he was allowed in company, had made a face in her direction. Mistress Mary had pinched her lips very tightly and ignored him; she did not need anyone not devoted to her pleasure.
She did not need anyone.
.
On arriving to England and discovering the moor and the gardens though, Mistress Mary slowly lost her contrary air and sallow cheeks and quite began to wish – not for someone who might like her, not yet, but for someone she might like. And the magic had granted her wish beyond measure as the robin, Dickon, Martha and Ben Weatherstaff had come to her; later, even more people were added to the list, so that she would need both her hands to count them all! So Mary had thought her life perfect.
With time and habit, however, came the problems again. Mary had discovered that she had been very spoiled whilst living in India – Colin had yet to realise that fact about himself – and spending time not with one friend but two brought its share of aggravation, because it meant having to share.
She had shared Martha with her family and, without knowing at the time, with Colin. She had shared her garden – with Dickon, with Ben Weatherstaff, with Colin also, and on and on the list went until the garden was no longer secret. She had shared her gardening tools with Colin so he may help in the garden, her nights with Colin when he couldn't sleep, her illustrated books with Colin because he knew his by heart, her time with Dickon to help him heal.
And so she felt quite justified when, as her dear cousin had tried to order her about like a rajah would his servant, she had pushed him into the pond. It would not harm a healthy boy like him to refresh his head from time to time, after all.