no, nor sleep with your skylight open, as you're always asking, nor go
one step outside the wall until you have come to your senses and are
more like other people. So there!"

But Helma laughed, her head thrown back, so that the children could look
into her happy eyes and see the glow of her short hair under her
grotesque hat.

"Keep your keys, cousin," she said, "and your old skylight keep shut
tight as tight. I shall find a way out. But my children must be patient,
and Ivra must teach Eric to keep his face and body clean. They must not
forget meal-times, and when anything goes wrong, or they think it is
going wrong, they must ask the Tree Man's advice. I will find a way to
them soon. They must keep happy and wait."

She said all that slowly and distinctly, her eyes smiling into theirs.

"What silly talk," laughed the sour old lady. "Just as though you were
making a speech. Well, it must be luncheon time now, and high time we
were changing our frocks. Wear your gray velvet, Helma, and don't forget
to put on stockings to match. There's to be strawberry ice to-day,--and
goose to begin with of course. Cook says she has never seen a
tenderer--"

The old lady went on talking about the wonderful luncheon they were to
have until they were out of hearing. But the children on the gray wall
could see that Helma was going in differently from the way she had come
out. Her head was high, and she stepped out in her funny high heeled
boots as though she were walking in sandals. At the little door into the
mansion she turned and waved her queer great muff to the children and