When the boy was walking and running about and digging and weeding like the others, the nest in the corner was brooded over by a great peace and content.  Fears for the Eggs became things of the past.  Knowing that your Eggs were as safe as if they were locked in a bank vault and the fact that you could watch so many curious things going on made setting a most entertaining occupation.  On wet days the Eggs’ mother sometimes felt even a little dull because the children did not come into the garden.

But even on wet days it could not be said that Mary and Colin were dull.  One morning when the rain streamed down unceasingly and Colin was beginning to feel a little restive, as he was obliged to remain on his sofa because it was not safe to get up and walk about, Mary had an inspiration.

“Now that I am a real boy,” Colin had said, “my legs and arms and all my body are so full of Magic that I can’t keep them still.  They want to be doing things all the time.  Do you know that when I waken in the morning, Mary, when it’s quite early and the birds are just shouting outside and everything seems just shouting for joy—­even the trees and things we can’t really hear—­I feel as if I must jump out of bed and shout myself.  And if I did it, just think what would happen!”

Mary giggled inordinately.

“The nurse would come running and Mrs. Medlock would come running and they would be sure you had gone crazy and they’d send for the doctor,” she said.

Colin giggled himself.  He could see how they would all look—­how horrified by his outbreak and how amazed to see him standing upright.

“I wish my father would come home,” he said.  “I want to tell him myself.  I’m always thinking about it—­but we couldn’t go on like this much longer.  I can’t stand lying still and pretending, and besides I look too different.  I wish it wasn’t raining to-day.”

It was then Mistress Mary had her inspiration.

“Colin,” she began mysteriously, “do you know how many rooms there are in this house?”

“About a thousand, I suppose,” he answered.

“There’s about a hundred no one ever goes into,” said Mary.  “And one rainy day I went and looked into ever so many of them.  No one ever knew, though Mrs. Medlock nearly found me out.  I lost my way when I was coming back and I stopped at the end of your corridor.  That was the second time I heard you crying.”

Colin started up on his sofa.

“A hundred rooms no one goes into,” he said.  “It sounds almost like a secret garden.  Suppose we go and look at them.  You could wheel me in my chair and nobody would know where we went.”

“That’s what I was thinking,” said Mary.  “No one would dare to follow us.  There are galleries where you could run.  We could do our exercises.  There is a little Indian room where there is a cabinet full of ivory elephants.  There are all sorts of rooms.”

“Ring the bell,” said Colin.