Таинственный сад

VI. “There Was Someone Crying—there Was!”

           

           Surelynootherlittlegirleverspentsuchaqueermorning.Itseemedasiftherewasnooneinallthehugeramblinghousebutherownsmallself,wanderingaboutupstairsanddown,throughnarrowpassagesandwideones,whereitseemedtoherthatnoonebutherselfhadeverwalked.Sincesomanyroomshadbeenbuilt,peoplemusthavelivedinthem,butitallseemedsoemptythatshecouldnotquitebelieveittrue.

           Itwasnotuntilsheclimbedtothesecondfloorthatshethoughtofturningthehandleofadoor.Allthedoorswereshut,asMrs.Medlockhadsaidtheywere,butatlastsheputherhandonthehandleofoneofthemandturnedit.Shewasalmostfrightenedforamomentwhenshefeltthatitturnedwithoutdifficultyandthatwhenshepusheduponthedooritselfitslowlyandheavilyopened.Itwasamassivedoorandopenedintoabigbedroom.Therewereembroideredhangingsonthewall,andinlaidfurnituresuchasshehadseeninIndiastoodabouttheroom.Abroadwindowwithleadedpaneslookedoutuponthemoor;andoverthemantelwasanotherportraitofthestiff,plainlittlegirlwhoseemedtostareathermorecuriouslythanever.

           “Perhapssheslepthereonce,”saidMary.“Shestaresatmesothatshemakesmefeelqueer.”

           Afterthatsheopenedmoredoorsandmore.Shesawsomanyroomsthatshebecamequitetiredandbegantothinkthattheremustbeahundred,thoughshehadnotcountedthem.Inallofthemtherewereoldpicturesoroldtapestrieswithstrangescenesworkedonthem.Therewerecuriouspiecesoffurnitureandcuriousornamentsinnearlyallofthem.

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