Mary Lennox anxiously twiddled her thumbs as she sat in the carriage on her journey back to Misselthwaite. It had been a long six years since she had last seen the house or any of its inhabitants. Though she, Colin and Dickon had exchanged letters throughout the years, she had only seen Colin once during their time apart and hadn't seen Dickon since her departure. Mary was excited to be reunited with her boys.

Mary slipped a parcel of letters from her carrying-bag and smiled remembering her excitement when she received them. It had been a very dull, eventless day in the city until she had read the beautiful, glorious words that Colin had penned: "Martha is to be married this coming August and would be delighted if you were able to attend". Mary promptly asked leave and packed her bags for her two-week long trip back to the country.

How Mary had changed since she was last living at Misselthwaite! She had been only a girl of thirteen when she left for finishing school in the city and had only once been able to visit the house since that time, and that was back when she was fourteen. Now she was a lady of nineteen, with her turned up hair and lengthened dresses.

Won't Colin and Dickon think me such a lady, Mary thought to herself, rather pleased. She could hardly wait to see their reactions when she walked up the front stairway in her blue linen dress, one she had strategically picked out for their liking.

"And we're 'ere, madam," the driver called to Mary as the carriage slowed.

Mary hastily pulled back the oil-cloth curtains of the carriage that had been closed throughout the journey to prevent moisture from entering the coach. And there, just yards away from her, was Misselthwaite Manor in all its glory. Mary felt a large grin spread across her face and excitement pulse through her body as the carriage bumped along the last paces toward the house.

Not waiting for the driver to open the door, Mary burst out of the coach. Her booted feet sunk into the moist ground in such a familiar manner. She smelled the glorious dewy grass and felt the rainy wind feather her cheek. She was home.

And yet, something was quite different. It was quiet outside, very quiet; something that had not normally occurred when she had lived there. There was no one outside. Everything was still.

Mary looked about herself, confused.

Sudden footsteps came pounding near on the driveway's gravel. Mary turned quickly with a smile and a sigh of relief, finding a boy standing slightly behind her. He was lanky, dark-haired with eyes that twinkled even in the rain. "Dickon."

The boy's forehead furrowed and he shook his head quickly. "I'm sorry Miss, but I'm na' Dickon. Dickon's back at the house. I'm his brother Charley."

"Charley..." Mary repeated. Yes, now that she looked at the boy she realized that his hair was much darker than Dickon's, his face more freckled, his body more lean. And there was not nearly enough dirt upon his face for him to be Dickon. "Charley!" Mary laughed. "I hardly recognized you! The last time I saw you, you were just a little boy!"

"Eight years old," Charley said smiling, rather proudly. "I'm fourteen now."

"Yes!" Mary smiled broadly, remembering. "I remember you would always ask to tag along with us to the Garden. And Dickon would near always refuse. Such a pest he thought you were!"

"Ah, 'e probably still thinks the same," Charley admitted. "Well, I'd better be helping tha' with tha's settling in or I'll be fired as quick as it comes." He promptly went to the carriage and hauled one of Mary's trunks from the top.

"You work here now?" asked Mary.

"Master Craven gave me and me sister Lizzie positions here after me mother died a few years back. And of course Dickon's still the gardener and Martha works here as well."

"Oh yes, Colin wrote me about your mother's death. I'm so sorry for your loss."

"Well we can't all live forever, na' can we?" Charley gave her a small smile.

Mary smiled back. She liked this boy already; he reminded her of a young Dickon, only more optimistic and, true, more refined.

"Shall I be takin' these up ta your rooms then, Miss Mary?"

"Yes...do you know where they are?" Mary asked, following Charley up the front stairway.

"Of course! Every one knows!" replied Charley. "Master Colin always made sure nobody else ever used tha's rooms and that they were always in good condition. 'That's Miss Mary's room', he'd say. 'I'll not have her livin' like a stable-hand'."

"Colin," Mary remembered, fondly. "He was always terribly protective of me. He was always making sure that I never rode my horse too far, never swung too high, never stayed out in the sun too long..."

"Na' that you're back, it'll only get worse," Charley commented. "But in a good way, I suppose."

"I'm only back for two weeks," Mary said. "But I'm glad to have these two weeks. I've missed this house...and everyone...so much."

"And they've all missed tha', Miss Mary. Tha' can be sure of that."

Mary smiled at her new little friend, just as a very familiar voice called from her right, "Mary!"

Feeling her heartbeat race, Mary trembled with excitement as she looked to the voice.

He stood looking at her, studying as if he'd never stop. Though his shirt was dirty and his shoes scuffed, they held a reminder of the boy this man once was. Six years had passed, six long years, but Mary would never forget this face that she loved so.

"Colin."