“She’s the best sick nurse I know,” said Dr. Craven.  “When I find her in a cottage I know the chances are that I shall save my patient.”

Mrs. Medlock smiled.  She was fond of Susan Sowerby.

“She’s got a way with her, has Susan,” she went on quite volubly.  “I’ve been thinking all morning of one thing she said yesterday.  She says, ‘Once when I was givin’ th’ children a bit of a preach after they’d been fightin’ I ses to ’em all, “When I was at school my jography told as th’ world was shaped like a orange an’ I found out before I was ten that th’ whole orange doesn’t belong to nobody.  No one owns more than his bit of a quarter an’ there’s times it seems like there’s not enow quarters to go round.  But don’t you—­none o’ you—­think as you own th’ whole orange or you’ll find out you’re mistaken, an’ you won’t find it out without hard knocks.”  What children learns from children,’ she says, ‘is that there’s no sense in grabbin’ at th’ whole orange—­peel an’ all.  If you do you’ll likely not get even th’ pips, an’ them’s too bitter to eat.’”

“She’s a shrewd woman,” said Dr. Craven, putting on his coat.

“Well, she’s got a way of saying things,” ended Mrs. Medlock, much pleased.  “Sometimes I’ve said to her, ’Eh!  Susan, if you was a different woman an’ didn’t talk such broad Yorkshire I’ve seen the times when I should have said you was clever.’”

* * * * *

That night Colin slept without once awakening and when he opened his eyes in the morning he lay still and smiled without knowing it—­smiled because he felt so curiously comfortable.  It was actually nice to be awake, and he turned over and stretched his limbs luxuriously.  He felt as if tight strings which had held him had loosened themselves and let him go.  He did not know that Dr. Craven would have said that his nerves had relaxed and rested themselves.  Instead of lying and staring at the wall and wishing he had not awakened, his mind was full of the plans he and Mary had made yesterday, of pictures of the garden and of Dickon and his wild creatures.  It was so nice to have things to think about.  And he had not been awake more than ten minutes when he heard feet running along the corridor and Mary was at the door.  The next minute she was in the room and had run across to his bed, bringing with her a waft of fresh air full of the scent of the morning.

“You’ve been out!  You’ve been out!  There’s that nice smell of leaves!” he cried.

She had been running and her hair was loose and blown and she was bright with the air and pink-cheeked, though he could not see it.

“It’s so beautiful!” she said, a little breathless with her speed.  “You never saw anything so beautiful!  It has come!  I thought it had come that other morning, but it was only coming.  It is here now!  It has come, the Spring!  Dickon says so!”

“Has it?” cried Colin, and though he really knew nothing about it he felt his heart beat.  He actually sat up in bed.