He liked the mysteriousness of it and did his best, but in the midst of excited enjoyment it is rather difficult never to laugh above a whisper.
Every moment of the afternoon was full of new things and every hour the sunshine grew more golden.

The wheeled chair had been drawn back under the canopy and Dickon had sat down on the grass and had just drawn out his pipe when Colin saw something he had not had time to notice before.
"That's a very old tree over there, isn't it ?" he said.

Dickon looked across the grass at the tree and Mary looked and there was a brief moment of stillness.
"Yes," answered Dickon, after it, and his low voice had a very gentle sound.
Mary gazed at the tree and thought.
"The branches are quite gray and there's not a single leaf anywhere," Colin went on.

"It's quite dead, isn't it ?" "Aye," admitted Dickon.

"But them roses as has climbed all over it will near hide every bit o' th' dead wood when they're full o' leaves an' flowers.