They went into the woods together and picked flowers, and Eepersip showed him how to make fern dresses and how to weave wreaths of flowers. They went into a grove of sunlit white pines and danced there together. Finally the little boy said: “I’m hungry, Eeserpip.”
“It’s Eepersip,” she said, “but it doesn’t matter much. I’ll find you something to eat.” After a while they found some flame-coloured berries, and then Eepersip dug up some white roots of which she was fond.
The boy said: “This is jolly, it is. Is this the way you get your food?”
“Always,” she said.
They played a while longer, and then someone called.
Eepersip had a strange feeling at that moment. She could not help feeling a certain reluctance when she had first played with him; then she had decided that he could not have anything to do with the civilized people she hated so. He must be separate from them, perhaps even a wild thing like herself. She felt a sensation of horror when the strange voice sounded. Then he was not alone—then he lived in a house with other people!
Startled, she cried: “Who’s that?”
“My mother,” he answered.
“Then you don’t live here all by yourself?” She had a bitter feeling of disappointment.
“Oh, no.”
“I wish you did.” This escaped her before she could think. Strange, that some magic power in this child had already made her say as much as she had said.
“I must go now,” he said sorrowfully. “But I’ll be out this afternoon—I guess.”
Eepersip fell on her knees in front of him and said entreatingly: “Will you do something for me?”
“I will—maybe.”
“Don’t tell anybody about me.”
“Why?”
“Never mind why, but don’t, will you?”
“I want to.”
“Then I won’t play with you any more.”
“All right, Eepersip. I won’t.” She looked at him doubtfully. “I promise you I won’t. Goodbye. I like you.”
Eepersip was delighted with her little friend. She waited anxiously for him to come out. Presently he came.
“Eepersip,” he said, “will you swim with me again?”
They went in again, and this time Eepersip showed him how to swim, by holding him up while he kicked with his arms and legs. After a long time he could swim a little bit by himself; and then Eepersip took him to some rather high rocks and showed him how to jump in. At first he wouldn’t do it alone; she took his hand and they jumped in together. After that he did it alone, and screamed with laughter when he came up. Then Eepersip showed him how to go in head first, and he had so much faith in her that he tried it right off. Although he went rather flat, he liked it very much. The next time Eepersip bent him ’way over before he went in, and he straightened out and hit the water clean as an arrow. That was much better, he said.
Eepersip asked him what his mother had said about the fern dress, for he had gone in so quickly that he had forgotten his own clothes. He said that she had asked him about it, and he had said that he found it. Eepersip thanked him for not telling about her.
But she was discovered in spite of her caution. One day when they were playing in the woods, Mrs. Carrenda came out and found them. Eepersip dashed for the waves immediately, in spite of the fact that Toby’s mother called: “Don’t run away, little girl; I won’t hurt you!”
But Toby began to cry bitterly. “Why did you send her away, Mother?”
“I didn’t, Toby. She ran as soon as I came. Who is she?”
That Toby did not answer. There were two instincts equally strong struggling within him—one to obey his mother, and the other to do what the strange girl asked him to with the threat of refusing to play with him if he did not.
“I can’t tell you, Mother,” he said courageously. It would have been as true if he had said “I don’t know,” for he knew nothing but her name, after all. However, he never stopped to think that knowing her name was not all there was to knowing her.
Mrs. Carrenda wisely pursued the matter no further; but she determined to keep watch.
Eepersip was much more cautious after this. She was always on the lookout. Several times Toby asked her why she didn’t want to be seen. But she would not answer him. She was, however, very kind in all other respects. Several times Mrs. Carrenda found Toby playing with her, but never spoke or let him know. She saw that Eepersip played nicely with him and that they liked each other much; so she did not interfere. Once, however, she put her hands suddenly on Eepersip’s shoulders from behind and said kindly: “Little girl, don’t be afraid of me.”
Eepersip sprang to her feet, stared wildly a moment, and then dashed off straight to the sea. But for fear of making Toby very unhappy, Mrs. Carrenda never questioned him about her.
She and her husband had many anxious conferences together. Her husband thought that it was exceedingly risky to let Toby play so unwatched with Eepersip, but Toby’s mother did not feel that way at all. Then they talked over the matter of who she was.
One day Eepersip was peeping into the house to see if she could find Toby, for he had not been out to play with her. Looking into the dining-room, she saw him there, eating luncheon with Mr. and Mrs. Carrenda. They were talking anxiously, and she was curious, and listened.
“I have it,” said Mr. Carrenda suddenly. “Don’t you remember those people—the Eeglines, or Eigleens—that came over to the hill near Mount Varcrobis where we lived before we came here? who wanted to know if we had seen a strange little girl, dressed all in ferns? She is the Eigleens’ lost little girl.”
Mrs. Carrenda looked puzzled.
“They told us, you know, that they had given up all
