In the morning she climbed the tree again. Fleuriss was just waking. Her eyes were turned toward the lovely oak-tree, watching the sunlight playing on the emerald leaves. She caught a glimpse of Eepersip as she vanished around the trunk.
“Oh, Mother,” she called softly. “I saw a nymph! She smiled at me, and went away.”
“Hush, child,” said Mrs. Eigleen, coming upstairs and stroking gently the silky black hair. “You were only dreaming.”
“No, Mother,” returned the child, “I was awake. I saw a nymph, really.”
Mrs. Eigleen only smiled.
And then Fleuriss saw the flowers. “O Mother,” she cried, “did you bring those to me?” Mrs. Eigleen was wonderstruck.
“Why, no!” she answered.
“Maybe that nymph left them here.”
Mrs. Eigleen was astounded enough not to contradict her. “Perhaps,” she said.
Eepersip descended again and ran off to her safe hiding-place in the lilac-bush. “She is so, so lovely!” she thought. “I want her more and more.”
In a short time little Fleuriss appeared with Mrs. Eigleen. “Fleuriss,” said her mother, “you may play here in the garden, but don’t go outside it, and don’t climb the trees.”
“All right, Mother.”
“And don’t run off and worry me as you did once before.” She had not forgotten Eepersip. Perhaps she scented something in the air. Those flowers troubled her.
“No, I won’t.”
Mrs. Eigleen went in, and Fleuriss began to run about and play. Then Eepersip stepped out from under the bush, and the lovely butterflies, lured by her flowers, fluttered and hovered around her.
“Oh,” said Fleuriss, “goodness, how you frightened me. Sit down on the grass, and talk with me. And how do you get those butterflies? They always fly away from me.”
“Listen, Fleuriss,” said Eepersip. “I am Eepersip, who ran away. The butterflies and birds all love me and come to me in great flocks when I call them. And I want you. I want to take you with me to live wild, and eat leaves and berries with the birds—sweet red berries. And if you come the butterflies will gather around you, too. They will not any other way. And look at all my flowers! Butterflies love my flowers.”
“Oh, did you bring me those bee‑yoo‑ti‑ful flowers?”
“Yes, I did. Come!”
“Oh,” answered Fleuriss, “and wouldn’t it be funny if Mother came out and found me not here!”
“And think—the birds, the butterflies, the flowers! Look, I’d dress you like this, with ferns and flowers and butterflies. And what fun we could have! We would dance and sing and chase each other amongst the fluttering leaves.”
“Oo, I could never catch you.”
“No, but I could catch you, and that would be as much fun.”
“But Mother doesn’t like me to eat leaves, and berries all the time make one sick.”
“But we would not have berries all the time. We would dig up sweet white roots and wash them clean; and m-m! they are good, little sister Fleuriss. We would have honey. The bees gather honey from the flowers, which they would share with us.”
“Bees sting,” said Fleuriss, shrinking away; “they sting, and they hurt, Eepersip.”
“Oh, but the bees love us all so they don’t sting us,” answered Eepersip. “It’s only the people that try to hurt them that they sting. We wouldn’t hurt them.”
“Oh, Eepersip! the leaves and butterflies, and—and honey—m-m! But I oughtn’t, really,” she said, backing off toward the house.
“Oh, come,” said Eepersip, “come, don’t go away. Your Mother wouldn’t care; she would love to see how happy you were. Please come.” And Eepersip’s hands went out in supplication, scattering over Fleuriss wreaths of flowers, sprays of berries, crimson, gold, frosty white.
“Oh, how beautiful!” exclaimed the little girl. But when she looked up, Eepersip had vanished.
Suddenly the door opened and Mrs. Eigleen stepped out. Eepersip had darted under the welcome branches of an apple-tree, whose thick blossoms kept her from sight.
“How sweet it smells!” said Mrs. Eigleen—“just as if a fairy had been here. Where did those flowers come from, Fleuriss?”
“Oh,” answered Fleuriss, “I saw the most beautiful girl. She brought me flowers and called me ‘little sister’ and wanted me to go away with her!”
Pale and weak from fright, Mrs. Eigleen took Fleuriss by the hand and dragged her roughly into the house.
Eepersip sat down under the apple-tree in ecstasy. “I saw her,” she said softly, “I saw her and talked to her, and—oh, how dear she is! But I do wish she hadn’t told about me.” She waited there, and in a short time Fleuriss appeared again, running.
“Eepersip, Eepersip,” she cried, “where are you?”
In a moment Eepersip had her arms around her waist, kissing her and hugging her.
“Are you coming?” she asked; “have you decided to come, Fleuriss?”
“Y-y-es,” said Fleuriss, “I really have, Eepersip. I thought all dinner time, and couldn’t eat, I was so ’xcited! But we must go quickly now, or they will run after us.”
So they ran quickly into the woods—ran amid the trees and flowers until they were far from the house. Eepersip showed her little sister how to dance, and they danced together. She also showed her how to leap and run fast, and Fleuriss was delighted. When they grew tired, they sat down together and made fern dresses and flower wreaths. Fleuriss followed Eepersip’s example, casting aside her dress, shoes, and stockings.
“Oh, how ’licious the grass feels on my bare toes!” she said, “and the soft moss. Eepersip, I feel just like a nymph.” (A slight pause.) “When I saw the flowers I said: ‘Mother, I think a nymph left them there,’ and she said: ‘Oh, no, there aren’t any nymphs. You’re only dreaming!’ Are there nymphs, Eepersip?”
“Oh, yes, Fleuriss, and if we dance and run and dress just like them, we’ll pretend we’re nymphs, too.”
“But why can’t we see them, Eepersip?”
“Oh, we can, if we look very hard. They’re all around in the trees, the flowers, and the woods. Sometimes we can’t see them, and they turn into butterflies so we can. I can see them.”
“Well, sometimes,” said Fleuriss thoughtfully, “it seems as if they were
