Dickon looked actually relieved as soon as the surprise died away from his round face.

“I am glad o’ that,” he exclaimed. “I’m right down glad. It makes me easier. I knowed I must say nothin’ about him an’ I don’t like havin’ to hide things.”

“Don’t you like hiding the garden?” said Mary.

“I’ll never tell about it,” he answered. “But I says to mother, ‘Mother,’ I says, ‘I got a secret to keep. It’s not a bad ’un, tha’ knows that. It’s no worse than hidin’ where a bird’s nest is. Tha’ doesn’t mind it, does tha’?’ ”

Mary always wanted to hear about mother.

“What did she say?” she asked, not at all afraid to hear.

Dickon grinned sweet-temperedly.