Mary was awoken by a person slowly smoothing her hair. "D-Dickon?" she muttered, her eyes opening slowly. She was lying on the couch, and Dickon was seated on the edge of the cushion by her waist.

"No, Mary. It's Colin. I'm afraid you've fainted after I told you who I was." He paused and drew back his hand. "I'm assuming you remember, then," he stated, although concern danced in his eyes.

Mary opened her mouth to speak but no words would come. Colin. He was back. She studied his features a little more closely. Yes, she saw his little boyish face under that handsome face. His baby fat and sickly pale skin had been chiseled and tanned down to the very last patch of skin. Mary realized she missed him more than anything.

"Oh, Colin," she exclaimed, falling into his arms. "How I've missed you!" It had been too long. All this time that she thought she needed to run away from those memories, and she was wrong all along. It was the memories she needed the most. Now that Dickon was gone all the time, she should have been thinking about the times he was there. And now that she had cut Colin off completely for twelve years, she felt a surge of overwhelming relief that almost made her dizzy.

Colin smiled. How wonderful he looked when he smiled. "I've been thinking about you for a long time now, Mary. I've never had a day when you haven't been on my mind. I just had to find you," he explained into her blonde curls.

Mary pulled back and kissed his cheek. "I wish I could say the same for you, but I'm afraid, against my better judgment, I've tried so hard to forget about Misselthwaite."

Colin frowned. "I haven't come to stay and visit, although I would first like to say congratulations about your marriage to Dickon." Although he smiled, Mary could sense a bit of jealousy from the tone in his voice. "How is he?"

"He is wonderful," she lied. Talking about her problems with her husband would only cause more problems. "We have a three-year-old son, Nathaniel." Mary left out the part that included how her son's eyes reminded her of Colin.

Colin nodded in approval. "That's wonderful, Mary. I'm glad that you are happy. Unfortunately I have some disturbing news." He stood up and walked to the window. "My father is dying. The family doctor will not tell me what the cause of his illness is. Father wanted it to be kept secret from me… he thought the news will alarm me." He looked back at Mary. "You need to come home, Mary. He has asked for you to see him before he dies."

Mary shook her head. "As much as I loved my uncle, I cannot. I have a husband and a son, and…"

Colin interrupted her. "And what, Mary? He is your uncle." He ran a hand through his blonde hair. He swallowed, and continued. "He loved you more than he ever loved me." Before Mary could stand to protest, he raised a hand. "Don't argue, it's true. You remember. He never spoke to me when I was sick. He was always asking for you, according to the servants. He loved you like a daughter. You reminded him of my mother, Mary." He looked away to fight off angry tears. "Please," he pleaded.

Mary slowly stood up and walked across the room, then placed a hand on his shoulder, turning him around to face her. "Colin, your father loved you very much. At times when I would try to sneak to your room late at night, I'd stop and watch Uncle walk in with a lantern. I'd go back to my own room, because I knew he wanted to see you. He loves you now. I might have been loved like a daughter, yes, but you…" When he looked away, she moved his face with her hand on his cheek back to her. "You were his son, and nothing could ever take that away from him."

She looked up at the ceiling. "I see Dickon with Nathaniel, and it's such a joy to see them together. Nothing gives me more satisfaction than when my husband looks proudly at our son." She smiled and sighed. "Sometimes I wondered if my father or mother ever looked at me like that. I don't remember…"

She smiled meekly and stepped back. "But that was in the past. I will go, but under one condition." Colin nodded.

"Dickon must not know about this. I know you two have never been close after I ran away. I can tell that you two have fought when I wasn't looking." Colin started to protest. "No, don't try to lie. I know, Colin. I will meet you at the corner right down the street here tonight."

Colin nodded, picking up his coat. "Eleven, then?" he asked, walking towards the door.

Mary opened it for him. "Yes, eleven." They stared at each other a moment, and she stepped towards him into a hug. "Thank you for coming. I can't tell you how much I have missed seeing you." She laughed lightly. "Just think, this will be like our childhood days… sneaking out to see you."

Colin chuckled and stepped back. "I will see you tonight."

---

Supper was silent. No one spoke. Dickon stared at his bowl, and Nathaniel slurped childishly. Mary stretched her arm over to his spoon and shook her head.

"I have to go to work tomorrow," Dickon stated simply, taking a bite of the chicken.

Mary looked at Nathaniel's brightened face. "Will you take Nathaniel this time?"

Dickon shook his head. "I can't. They need me to help tame a new horse that just came in from Manchester."

Nathaniel slammed his spoon down on the table, causing beads of broth to bounce off and land around the room. "Father, please! I'll behave, I promise!"

Mary stared at Dickon in disbelief. "Darling, take him with you. He can stand on the other side of the fence. You promised him… and me… that you'd watch him tomorrow."

Dickon slammed his hands on the table and tossed his spoon down. "Fine. I'll take him." With that, he walked away to the bedroom. Nathaniel jumped up out of his chair and ran around the table, cheering. Mary placed her head in her hands and tried to block out all the commotion.

"Nathaniel, go to your room, please," she said after long last. Nathaniel left, and Mary stood to clear and clean the table.

---

It was 10:50, and Dickon still hadn't come down to talk to Mary or ask her to go to bed, or to make love. When was the last time they spent the night in each other's arms? She couldn't remember. She sat, watching the clock slowly inch towards eleven, a small bag of clothes and necessities in her lap.

She couldn't wait anymore. Mary opened the front door and shut it quietly behind her. Looking back once more, she silently bade goodbye to her family, and hoped that they could manage on their own for a while.

Colin was waiting on the corner underneath the lamppost, just as they had planned. "We must hurry to Misselthwaite. Every minute we waste is another taken away from Father."

Mary nodded, and as quietly as they could, they got into the automobile that awaited for them, and made their way towards Misselthwaite Manor. Although Mary wanted to see her uncle, however, she felt a twinge of regret the whole ride there. Regret for leaving the peaceful life she led behind, and regret for returning the the life she thought she'd left for good.