Mary Lennox’s transition from India to her new home at Misselthwaite begins with a sense of profound displacement. Waking to the sight of a "young housemaid" cleaning the fireplace, Mary immediately perceives her surroundings as "oddly gloomy." The environment is starkly different from her past; the walls are adorned with a tapestry depicting a "forest and people in strained clothing," and the view from her window reveals a "great stretch of flat, treeless land." Mary’s reaction to the moor is immediate and visceral: "I hate it." This initial hostility toward the landscape highlights Mary’s deep-seated dissatisfaction and her struggle to adapt to a world that lacks the opulence and structure of her life in India.
The dynamic between Mary and the housemaid, Martha, serves as a catalyst for Mary’s eventual transformation. Martha is characterized by her candid, "friendly voice" and her status as a "country girl from Yorkshire." Unlike the servants Mary was accustomed to in India, Martha speaks with an openness that puzzles Mary, leading her to remark, "you're a strange servant." Martha’s perspective on the moor is vastly different from Mary’s; she describes it not as a dull, purple sea, but as a place that, in the summer, "smells sweet as honey" and is "full of bees and skylarks." This interaction introduces Mary to a world where nature is cherished and where social barriers are more fluid than she has ever known.
Through Martha’s stories, Mary begins to develop an unlikely interest in Martha’s brother, Dickon. Martha describes Dickon as a "kind lad" who has formed a unique bond with animals on the moor, including a pony he "found" and "got to like him." The fact that "Mary began to take a slight interest in Dickon" is a significant psychological shift, as the text notes that "Mary had never been interested in anyone but herself." This newfound curiosity suggests that the isolation of Misselthwaite is beginning to crack Mary’s self-centered exterior, as she starts to imagine the possibility of birds and animals providing the amusement she lacks in the nursery.
As Mary is urged to "wrap up warm and go outside to play," the narrative shifts from internal adjustment to external exploration. Martha’s insistence that Mary must go out "by yourself" forces the young girl to confront her solitude. As she is sent to explore the grounds, Martha provides a crucial piece of lore: the existence of a garden that is "locked up." This garden, which Mr. Craven "shot" (locked) and "buried the key" to after his wife died ten years prior, represents the hidden emotional history of the house. Left alone, Mary is no longer merely a passive resident of a gloomy house; she is now an observer and a potential investigator of the "locked garden," marking the beginning of her journey toward discovering the secrets buried within the walls of Misselthwaite.