Aye, admitted Dickon. But them roses as has climbed all over it will
near hide every bit o th dead wood when they re full o leaves an
flowers. It won t look dead then. It ll be th prettiest of all.
Mary still gazed at the tree and thought.
It looks as if a big branch had been broken off, said Colin. I
wonder how it was done.
It s been done many a year, answered Dickon. Eh! with a sudden
relieved start and laying his hand on Colin. Look at that robin! There
he is! He s been foragin for his mate.
Colin was almost too late but he just caught sight of him, the flash of
red-breasted bird with something in his beak. He darted through the
greenness and into the close-grown corner and was out of sight. Colin
leaned back on his cushion again, laughing a little.
He s taking her tea to her. Perhaps it s five o clock. I think I d
like some tea myself.
And so they were safe.
It was Magic which sent the robin, said Mary secretly to Dickon
afterward. I know it was Magic. For both she and Dickon had been
afraid Colin might ask something about the tree whose branch had broken
off ten years ago and they had talked it over together and Dickon had
stood and rubbed his head in a troubled way.
We mun look as if it wasn t no different from th other trees, he had
said. We couldn t never tell him how it broke, poor lad. If he says
anything about it we mun we mun try to look cheerful.
Aye, that we mun, had answered Mary.
But she had not felt as if she looked cheerful when she gazed at the
tree. She wondered and wondered in those few moments if there was any
reality in that other thing Dickon had said. He had gone on rubbing his
rust-red hair in a puzzled way, but a nice comforted look had begun to
grow in his blue eyes.
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