to the little girl just as people of
the same age talk to each other; and though Eric was shaking with cold
and aching with hunger, he could still wonder deeply at that.

"It's a long way 'round by the big pine," she was saying; "but you see I
am home in time for supper. Suppose I had not come until after dark.
What would you have done, Ivra?"

The little girl stopped in her busy-ness to stand on one foot and think
a second. "Why, I'd have put the supper over the fire, lighted the
candles, and run out to meet you."

"Oh, but you wouldn't know which way to run. I might come from any
direction."

"I'd follow the wind," cried Ivra, lifting her serious face and rising
to her tiptoes, one arm outstretched, as though she were going to follow
the wind right then and there.

It was at that minute they noticed the door had blown open, and that a
little boy was standing in it, looking at them.

But they neither stared nor exclaimed. Ivra ran to him, her arms still
outstretched in the flying gesture, and drew him in. His dirty face was
streaked with tears, and his legs and feet were blue with the cold. They
knew it was not question-time, but comfort-time, so the mother folded an
arm about him, and Ivra skipped more rapidly than ever between the
cupboard and the table. Almost at once supper was ready, and the table
set for three. As the last thing, Ivra brought all the candles and set
them in the middle of the table. They sat down,--Eric with his back to
the fire. It warmed him through and through, but their friendly faces
warmed him more.

Very little was said, but when the meal was nearly over Ivra asked him
how long he was going to stay with them. Immediately he stopped eating
and dropped his spoon. His eyes filled with tears. He had utterly
forgotten about his plight until then,--how he was homeless, workless
and bound to starve and freeze sooner or later. Ivra's mother saw the
misery in his face and quietly spoke, "We hope for a long time. As long
as you want to, anyway. Three in a wood will be merrier than two in a
wood. . . . If you like me I will be your mother."

Ivra clapped her hands. "Stay always," she cried. "I will be your
playmate. There will be many playmates besides, too, and I will help you
find them."

Eric glowed. The hatred that had been flaring in his head suddenly
faded, and the heavy thing that had been his heart for as long as he
could remember, became light as thistledown. He looked at the moth