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Updated: June 2, 2025
Helma and Sally lay on the sand in the spring sunshine and talked about their children. "Nan and Dan tear their clothes so," sighed Sally, "I could spend all my time mending." "I must make little Eric some new clothes," said Helma. "I hope I have cloth enough at home." "Nan is naughty, but she is a darling," laughed Sally as Eric was pushed under the surf.
One of the men put his hands to his mouth like a megaphone and called to Helma, asking her if she did not want to be picked up. They thought her being there in that wild place with a little boy, alone, and barefooted, very singular. They thought she might have been shipwrecked. But Helma shook her head, and so they had to take their wonder away with them. The boat swept by.
Sometimes when they were tired or warm with walking they would climb into the top of some tall tree, and there swinging among the cool new leaves, Helma began telling them her World Stories again, while the children looked off over the trembling forest roof and watched for homing birds.
It's like this: First off you tell me where the wad is; then I tell you about Helma." Makes him groan a bit, that does, and he scowls at me stubborn. "They tried all that on at Headquarters," says he. "It's no use." "You'd get off lighter if you told," says I. "I've nothing to tell," he insists. "How about swappin' what you know for two tickets to Australia?" I suggests. "Hah!" says he.
When she came blinking out into the lighted dining-room, the men were upstairs, and Helma, to Anne's astonishment, was showing in another caller, and another Charles Rideout, as Anne's puzzled glance at the card in her hand, assured her. This was a tall young man, a little dishevelled, in a big storm coat, and with dark rings about his eyes.
And yet everything he saw would be natural just as natural as all this is, once we get the answer to it. Not that we're Fijians, of course, but the principle is the same." The Norseman considered this; nodded gravely. "Ja!" he answered at last. "And at least we can fight. That is why I have turned to Thor of the battles, Ja! And one have I hope in for mine Helma the white maiden.
And because the Forest Children could not run on those they were made bright and clear. But soon the Forest Children pressed their faces against the panes to watch for Helma, and as the minutes passed breath-clouds formed there, spreading and deepening until the glass sparkled no more. But no one noticed. No one cared.
"Miss Helma, will you come outside on the landing for a minute?" Elma went out. "I have a bit of news about that money, miss. If you'll come right down to the dining-room I'll tell you there." "News about my money, Maggie? Oh, impossible!" But hope, ever ready to dawn in the human breast, could not help rising now on poor Elma's horizon.
Not one of my regular evenin's, you understand, nor any special date: I was just takin' a chance. And when the maid tells me Miss Vee and Auntie have gone out for an after-dinner stroll on the Drive, I chucks my new felt-rim straw on the hall table and remarks careless that, as Auntie ain't likely to do any Marathon before bedtime, I guess I'll wait. Helma grins.
"And Eric has made you some sandals. He makes fine sandals now!" The frock was a brown smock with a narrow green belt. The sandals were well made, and very soft and light. Helma stripped off the tattered silk frock, the funny thing with its long sleeves and stiff lace collar, and hid it away out of sight. On went the new smock over her head in a twinkling. She stepped into the sandals.
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