Mary slept that night in the secret temple with Hector beside her. She woke, feeling hungry, as the sun rose. Dickon came through the gate, whistling. He stopped in surprise when he saw her sitting on the steps with Hector, watching the early morning sunrise, its rays falling on the perfect sea of flowers that now bloomed around the temple and statues. The weeds had been conquered, and the flowers had opened to the sun. Clumps of white lily of the valley and nodding bluebells clustered in the shady areas with tall pink foxgloves behind them. Hydrangea bushes covered with enormous lilac and pink blooms that looked like pom-poms spilled from the borders, along with clouds of white orange blossom and yellow hypericum.

“Mary? What are you doing here?” Dickon asked.

“They are going to send me to school today,” she said glumly. “But I won’t go. I won’t, Dickon!”

He nodded, understanding.

“Colin will be wondering where I am,” Mary said anxiously. “Can you go to him? Get Martha to help you and bring him here?”

She watched as he left the garden. What would everyone be doing in the house? They would have realized she had gone by now. What would they be saying? A feeling of satisfaction that she had outwitted Mrs. Medlock filled her, warming her up and making her forget about her cold fingers and toes. As the sun rose higher, she felt its warmth sinking into her skin, and she went to the stream to get some water to drink.

When she came back, she saw Dickon pushing Colin in his chair. Both boys were looking excited and flushed. “We had such a near miss, Mary!” Colin called. “Mrs. Medlock almost caught Dickon in my room. He had to hide in my wardrobe. When she left, he had to push me as fast as he could. I thought he was going to bounce me clean out of my chair.” His eyes flew to her face. “What’s going on? Dickon said you’ve run away.”

She ran over to him. “I have. I can’t go to school, Colin. I just can’t!” She looked around the garden. “And I don’t need to.” A plan had formed in her mind in the night. “I can stay here!” She saw his doubtful look and rushed on. “I’ll be happy. You can bring me food and clothes. Blankets too.”

Colin shook his head. “I know you don’t want to go to school, and we don’t want you to go either. . . .” he said slowly.

“He’s right, we don’t,” Dickon put in.

Mary was grateful as she saw the warm friendship in their eyes.

“But you can’t stay locked up in this garden,” Colin went on, pushing himself out of the chair and standing on shaky legs. “It’s as bad as me being locked up in my room. Life needs living.”