Fleuriss and Eepersip lived there enchanted day after day, and although they often saw the sea, they did not wish to leave the hill. Fleuriss spoke about it several times, but Eepersip would hurriedly change the subject. That range of blue hills seemed to be calling her—she would forget the sea for a while, until the next year. After they had stayed where they were for some time, they would go on and on to the blue hills, and perhaps explore the great snowy mountains beyond. She could manage with Fleuriss somehow.
One day they went exploring farther than ever toward the east. They followed a narrow path, winding, winding through the bushes. And then it curved around toward the northeast and led through low laurel-trees, and here Eepersip stopped to make for Fleuriss a crown of the blossoms. And again the path turned and came on to a broader gravel road all bordered with gorgeous roses of red and white, and Fleuriss was very much surprised at their magnificent beauty. But Eepersip was distressed. So they had come to a place where there were roads, houses, and people! But as yet they had seen no house. Eepersip hoped that there would be none, for she was as entranced as Fleuriss with the beauty of it all. And then they switched off on another little path, leading southeast on to a wide lawn all bordered with marvellous roses. Here they danced together a long time. Next they turned into another gravelled path which led eastward, through clumps of roses and laurel, downhill and uphill, for a long way; and then they saw a garden brilliant with colour. Fleuriss was dazed, there were so many flowering bushes—rhododendron, laurel, honeysuckle, azalea, quince, and fire-blossom. Hummingbirds, bright emerald and ruby with moonlight wings, were darting and sparkling about, sipping honey, resting and quivering on the air.
But soon after they had discovered the garden, Eepersip said that she was going on a short journey, coming back in two or three days. “Will you be all right here alone, little sister?” she said anxiously.
“Oh yes, Eepersip, and I’m going to find lots of things to show you when you come back. But where are you going?”
“I’m going—going—to a beautiful place—and take you there sometime.”
“Oh—I see. Can’t I go now?”
“No—because—it would be too hard now. Wait till I go and find the easiest way for you.”
“All right—goodbye!”
And, with a rustle of ferns, Eepersip vanished around a great rhododendron-bush.
Fleuriss continued her explorations alone. She saw a gorgeous butterfly come sailing toward her, of yellow streaked with black. Others followed, and they covered her with soft wing-caresses, crowning her head with their wings. Fleuriss thought (as Eepersip had told her) that they were the fairies turning themselves into butterflies so that she could see them.
Not a mouse stirred when she wormed her way through the bushes, taking care not to step on leaves or dry twigs so as to make a noise. And then the sun started to set and turned the whole sky golden and rose. Fleuriss crept in among a vine with golden flowers (there was no rich purple fruit yet, only the lovely flowers) and watched. And, lo! each leaf was quivering, and on their smooth surfaces was represented another miniature sunset. How marvellous the rose and gold looked through the mass of trembling green leaves.
Then Fleuriss squeezed her way out of the bush and began to explore again. Pushing northward in the dim, rosy light, she came to a smooth lawn of pale green moss. On the other side was a stretch of woods, then another lawn, of grass this time and smaller; and then there was a great row of massive pines and beyond them an opaline lake. And still the sun went down, and the mass of colour became smaller and brighter, and Fleuriss, who had never seen so much beauty in her little life, gazed and gazed. The colour faded slowly, slowly, as she watched, until only a deep flush was left, and it was then that Fleuriss thought she was in the heart of a giant rose. And—inconceivable—she looked, and she was. She was sure of it. She could even see the great curling petals around her. Right at the sun was a burning spot. That was the pollen of the great flower. And this tiny fire burned and burned until only one bright red spark was left. Then it too went out, and after it all the rose colour faded away.
Then Fleuriss turned to the lake, which also had held in its bright blue surface an image of the sunset. The sky was deep blue now. The pines looked even darker against it, and in the lake Fleuriss could see the reflection of the crescent moon setting. And then she ran down by the side of the lake, and very dark and strange it looked in the evening. Dipping her little hands into the clear, crystal water, she drank, for she was thirsty. But she was too tired to appreciate any more beauty just then, and so
