So up they hopped, and without another look towards the shadow out on
the snow by the white birch, jumped down the hole, and ran out of the
barn into the kitchen.

Nora was there knitting by a table, two big pans of cookies just out of
the oven cooling in front of her.

How good they smelled! Eric had never tasted hot ginger cookies before,
and when Nora gave him one, a big round one all for his own, he almost
danced with delight. He perched on the edge of the table and ate that
one and many another before he was done.

"This boy, grandma," began the red-headed girl.

"His name is Eric," interrupted Nora, handing him another cookie. "I
know him very well."

"Well, he saw It while we were looking out of the barn window! And he
said It was real and his playmate, and he wanted to call It in to tell
us stories!"

"Don't say 'It,'" said Nora. "Her name is 'Ivra.' But of course you
can't play with her. She isn't an Earth Child. She's a fairy. So don't
say anything about it to your father when he comes home to-night. It
would make him cross."

"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."