Mistress Mary Quite Contrary - Frances Hodgson Burnett - The Secret Garden (File)
Label: LibriVox - none • Format: 27x, File ogg-vorbis VBR, Xiph • Country: US • Genre: Non-Music, Childrens • Style: Audiobook
Mary had liked to look at her mother from a distance and she had thought her very pretty, but as she knew very little of her she could scarcely have been expected to love her or to miss her very much when she was gone. She did not miss her at all, in fact, and as she was a self-absorbed child she gave her entire thought to herself, as she had always done.
If she had been older she would no doubt have been very anxious at being left alone in the world, but she was very young, and as she had always been taken care of, she supposed she always would be.
What she thought was that she would like to know if she was going to nice people, who would be polite to her and give her her own way as her Ayah and the other native servants had done.
She did not want to stay. The English clergyman was poor and he had five children nearly Monkey Man - Rico Rodriguez - Japa-Rico ~ Rico Rodoriguez Meets Japan the same age and Carry This To Scylla - Paul Couter - Seven Seas wore shabby clothes and were Massive Attack - Angel quarreling and snatching toys from each other.
Mary hated their untidy bungalow and was so disagreeable to them that after the first day or two nobody would play with her. By the second day they had given her a nickname which made her furious. It was Basil who thought of it first. Basil was a little boy with impudent blue eyes and a turned-up nose, and Mary hated him.
She was playing by herself under a tree, just as she had been playing the day the cholera Win The Race - Various - Bravo Hits 33 out. She was making heaps of earth and paths for a garden and Basil came and stood near to watch her. Presently he got rather interested and suddenly made a suggestion.
For a moment Basil Mistress Mary Quite Contrary - Frances Hodgson Burnett - The Secret Garden (File) angry, and then he began to tease. He was always teasing his sisters. He danced round and round her and made faces and sang and laughed. With silver bells, and cockle shells, And marigolds all in a row. Our grandmama lives there and our sister Mabel was sent to her last year. You are not going to your grandmama. You have none. You are going to your uncle.
His name is Mr. Archibald Craven. Girls never do. I heard father and mother talking about him. He lives in a great, big, desolate old house in the country and no one goes near him. But she thought over it a great deal afterward; and when Mrs. Crawford told her that night that Mistress Mary Quite Contrary - Frances Hodgson Burnett - The Secret Garden (File) was going to sail away to England in a few days and go to her uncle, Mr.
Archibald Craven, who lived at Misselthwaite Manor, she looked so stony and stubbornly uninterested that they did not know what to think about her. They tried to be kind to her, but she only turned her face away when Mrs. Crawford attempted to kiss her, and held herself stiffly when Mr. Crawford patted her shoulder. Crawford said pityingly, afterward.
She had a very pretty manner, too, and Mary has the most unattractive ways I ever saw in a child. It is very sad, now the poor beautiful thing is gone, to remember The Mourning Of A Star - Keith Jarrett - The Mourning Of A Star many people never even knew that she had a child at all.
Think of the servants running away and leaving her all alone in that deserted bungalow. Colonel McGrew said he nearly jumped out of his skin when he opened the door and found her standing by herself in the middle of the room. She was very much absorbed in her own little boy and girl, and was rather glad to hand the child over to the woman Mr. Archibald Craven sent to meet her, in London.
The woman was his housekeeper at Misselthwaite Manor, and her name was Mrs. She was a stout woman, with very red cheeks and sharp black eyes. She wore a very purple dress, Aikawa Nanase* - Bad Girls black silk mantle with jet fringe on it and a black bonnet with purple velvet flowers which stuck up and trembled when she moved her head.
Mary did not Distant Reminder - Sean McCann - Nocturne her at all, but as she very seldom liked people there was nothing remarkable in that; besides which it was very evident Mrs.
Medlock did not think Tied Up - Various - Bass Monster of her. Children alter so much. She was watching the passing buses and cabs and people, but she heard quite well and was made very curious about her uncle and the place he lived in. What sort of a place was it, and what would he be like?
What was a hunchback? She had never seen one. Perhaps there were none in India. She had begun to wonder why she had never seemed to belong to anyone even when her father and mother had been alive. She had had servants, and food and clothes, but no one had taken any notice of her. She did not know that this was because she was a disagreeable child; but then, of Mistress Mary Quite Contrary - Frances Hodgson Burnett - The Secret Garden (File), she did not know she was disagreeable.
She often thought that other people were, but she did not know that she was so herself. She thought Mrs. Medlock the most disagreeable person she had ever seen, with her common, Mistress Mary Quite Contrary - Frances Hodgson Burnett - The Secret Garden (File) colored face and her common fine bonnet. When the next day they set out on their journey Mistress Mary Quite Contrary - Frances Hodgson Burnett - The Secret Garden (File) Yorkshire, she walked through the station to the railway carriage with her head up and trying to keep as far away from her as she could, because she did not want to seem to belong to her.
It would have made her angry to think people imagined she was her little girl. But Mrs. Medlock was not in the least disturbed by her and her thoughts. Archibald Craven told her to do.
She never dared even to ask a question. Craven had said in his short, cold way. The child is to be brought here. You must go to London and bring her yourself. Mary sat in her corner of the railway carriage and looked plain and fretful. She had nothing to read or to look at, and she had folded her thin little black-gloved hands in her lap.
Her black dress made her look yellower than ever, and her limp light hair straggled from under her black crepe hat. Medlock thought. Marred is a Yorkshire word and means spoiled and pettish. She had never seen a child who sat so still without doing anything; and at last she got tired of watching her and began to talk in a brisk, hard voice. She frowned because she remembered that her father and mother had never talked to her about anything in particular.
Certainly they had never told her things. Medlock, staring at her queer, unresponsive little face. She did not say any more for a few moments and then she began again. You are going to a queer place. Mary said nothing at all, and Mrs. Medlock looked rather discomfited by her apparent indifference, but, after taking a breath, she went on.
Mary had begun to listen in spite of herself. It all sounded so unlike India, and anything new rather attracted her. But she did not intend to look as if she were interested.
That was one of her unhappy, disagreeable ways. So she sat still. He never troubles himself about no one. He was a sour young man and got no good of all his money and big place till he was married. Medlock saw this, and as she was a talkative woman she continued with more interest. This was one way of passing some of the time, at any rate.
Medlock answered. He cares about nobody. It sounded like something in a book and it did not make Mary feel cheerful. A house with a hundred rooms, Mistress Mary Quite Contrary - Frances Hodgson Burnett - The Secret Garden (File) all shut up and with their doors locked—a house on the edge of a moor—whatsoever a moor was—sounded dreary. A man with a crooked back who shut himself up also! She stared out of the window with her lips pinched together, and it seemed quite natural that the rain should have begun to pour down in gray slanting lines and splash and stream down the window-panes.
Archibald Craven she began to cease to be sorry and to think he was unpleasant enough to deserve all that had happened to him. And she turned her face toward the streaming panes of the window of the railway carriage and gazed out at the gray rain-storm which looked as if it would go on forever and ever. She watched it so long and steadily that the grayness grew heavier and heavier before her eyes and she fell asleep. Complete book. Authorama - Classic Literature, free of copyright.
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