They went to the window and waited there, watching her.

"The door doesn't open out,--only in, I think," Eric whispered. "So we
can't get out."

"Mother has told me how it would be," Ivra whispered back. "We'll have
to wait until she's asleep and then find a way."

Then Ivra sat down on the floor and began to rock back and forth and
sing a lullaby. It was a lullaby her mother had sung to her all her
babyhood, Ivra sang in a very little voice, almost a murmur only, but by
listening Eric and the Beautiful Wicked Witch could catch the words. She
sang the same words over and over and over.

Night is in the forest,
Tree Mother is nigh.
By-abye, by-abye-bye.

Sleep is in the forest--
His feathers brush your eye.
By-abye, by-abye-bye.

Mother's arms are holding you,
Forest dreams are folding you.
By-abye, by-abye--bye.

The Beautiful Wicked Witch sat down before the mirrors after a while,
still watching her reflection, but listening to the song, too. Her head
gradually sank lower and lower, first resting chin in hand and at last