“But it doesn’t make you cross,” laughed the jolliest boy.  “And so won’t you tell us some stories about it now.  You know,—­the little house in the wood, the Tree Man, the Forest Children, Helma, Ivra and all the rest of it.”

“Do tell us a story,” begged the other two.

So Nora put down her knitting, and taking the cat on her lap, a great sleepy white fellow who had been purring by the stove, she began to tell them stories.

She told stories about Helma and Ivra, the Wind Creatures, the Snow Witches and many more.  The children listened eagerly, clapping their hands now and then, and at the end of every story asking for more.

But Eric was lost in wonder.  The children thought the stories were not true,—­just fairy stories told them by a grandmother.  And Nora had evidently long ago given up expecting them to believe.  Her black eyes twinkled knowingly when they met Eric’s puzzled ones.

And all the time Eric had only to turn his head to see Ivra walking out there around in the field, looking at the farm house, waiting for him.  But gradually, as the stories went on the little figure out there grew more and more to look like just a blue shadow on the snow, paler and paler.  Finally he had to strain his eyes to see it at all.

Then he jumped down from the table and said he must go home.  His heart was beating a little wildly.  For he was afraid Ivra might fade away from him altogether.  These red-headed children were fine playfellows.  He liked them,—­oh, so much!  He wished he could stay and play with them for—­a week.  Yes.  But he must go now.  That blue shadow on the snow seemed lonely.

“Take her some cookies,” said Nora, filling his pockets.  The children laughed at the top of their voices.  “Yes, take some cookies to the fairy.  But you can eat them yourself and pretend it is the fairy eating them,” they cried.

Nora laughed with them, and so after a minute Eric joined in.  But he and Nora looked at each other through their laughter and nodded understanding.

When Ivra saw him at last come out of the farm house door, she didn’t wait longer, but ran away into the wood.  He overtook her a long way in, walking rapidly.

“Did you have a good time with the witches?” he asked.

“Why didn’t you come, too?” she said

“Oh, it was too cold.  Nora’s grandchildren are awfully good fun.  We played hide-and-go-seek, just as we played it at the Tree Man’s party.”

“Did they laugh at me?”

" . . .  No, they laughed at me.  They thought I was a funny boy.”

“To have me for a playmate?”

Then Eric began to think that Ivra was not very happy.  Perhaps she had been lonely.

“You’re always running off with the Snow Witches,” he said.  “But I won’t play with Nora’s grandchildren any more unless they’ll let you play too.  I won’t, truly!”