THE CHRISTMAS HOLIDAY CHEER: 180+ Novels, Tales & Poems in One Volume (Illustrated Edition). Лаймен Фрэнк Баум
little impatience; 'I can't make you out at all.'
Rollo felt the same, though, being more considerate than his little sister, he did not like to express his feelings so freely. But Waldo and Silva only laughed merrily.
'No, no, indeed we're not,' they said more than once, but Maia did not seem convinced by any means, and she was going on to maintain that no children who weren't half fairies could live like that by themselves and manage everything so beautifully, when a slight noise at the door and a sudden look of pleasure on Silva's face made her stop short and look round.
'Here she is,' exclaimed Waldo and Silva together. 'Oh, godmother, darling, we are so glad. And they have come, Rollo and Maia have come, just as you said.'
And thus saying they sprang forward. Their godmother stooped and kissed both on the forehead.
'Dear children,' she said, and then she turned to the two strangers, who were gazing at her with all their eyes.
'Can it be she the silly people about call a witch?' Maia was saying to herself. 'It might be, and yet I don't know. Could any one call her a witch?'
She was old—of that there was no doubt, at least so it seemed at the first glance. Her hair was perfectly white, her face was very pale. But her eyes were the most wonderful thing about her. Maia could not tell what colour they were. They seemed to change with every word she said, with every new look that came over her face. Old as she was they were very bright and beautiful, very soft and sweet too, though not the sort of eyes—Maia said afterwards to Rollo—'that I would like to look at me if I had been naughty.' Godmother was not tall; when she first came into the little kitchen she seemed to stoop a little, and did not look much bigger than Silva. And she was all covered over with a dark green cloak, almost the colour of the darkest of the foliage of the fir-trees.
'One would hardly see her if she were walking about the woods,' thought Maia, 'except that her face and hair are so white, they would gleam out like snow.'
CHAPTER V.
THE STORY OF A KING'S DAUGHTER.
'Gentle and sweet is she;
As the heart of a rose is her heart,
As soft and as fair and as sweet.'
Liliput Lectures.
Godmother turned to the little strangers. The two pairs of blue eyes were still fixed upon her. Her eyes looked very kind and gentle, and yet very 'seeing', as she caught their gaze.
'I believe,' thought Maia, 'that she can tell all we are thinking;' and Rollo had something of the same idea, yet neither of them felt the least afraid of her.
'Rollo and Maia, dear children, too,' she said, 'we are so pleased to see you.'
'And we are very pleased to be here,' said they; 'but——' and then they hesitated.
'You are puzzled how it is I know your names, and all about you, are you not?' she said, smiling. 'I puzzle most children at first; but isn't it rather nice to be puzzled?'
This was a new idea. Thinking it over, they began to find there was something in it.
'I think it is,' both replied, smiling a little.
'If you knew all about everything, and could see through everything, there wouldn't be much interest left. Nothing to find out or to fancy. Oh, what a dull world!'
'Are we to find out or to fancy you?' asked Maia. She spoke seriously, but there was a little look of fun in her eyes which was at once reflected in godmother's.
'Whichever you like,' she replied; 'but, first of all, you are to kiss me.'
Rollo and Maia both kissed the soft white face. It was so soft, and there seemed a sort of fresh, sweet scent about godmother, as if she had been in a room all filled with violets, only it was even nicer. She smiled, and from a little basket on her arm, which they had not noticed, she drew out several tiny bunches of spring flowers, tied with green and white ribbon—so pretty; oh, so very pretty!
'So you scented my flowers,' she said. 'No wonder; you have never scented any quite like them before. They come from the other country. Here, dears, catch,' and she tossed them up in the air, all four children jumping and darting about to see who would get most. But at the end, when they counted their treasures, it was quite right, each had got three.
'Oh, how sweet!' cried Maia. 'May we take them home with us, godmother?' It seemed to come quite naturally to call her that, and Maia did it without thinking.
'Certainly,' godmother replied; 'but remember this, don't throw them away when they seem withered. They will not be really withered; that is to say, long afterwards, by putting them in the sunshine, they will—some of them, any way—come out quite fresh again. And even when dried up they will have a delicious scent; indeed, the scent has an added charm about it the older they are—so many think, and I agree with them.'
Rollo and Maia looked at their flowers with a sort of awe.
'Then they are fairy flowers?' they half whispered. 'You said they came from the other country. Do you come from there too, godmother? Are you a fairy?'
Godmother smiled.
'Fancy me one if you like,' she said. 'Fancy me whatever you like best, you will not be far wrong; but fairyland is only one little part of that other country. You will find that out as you get older.'
'Shall we go there some day, then?' exclaimed Maia. 'Will you take us, dear godmother? Have Waldo and Silva ever been?'
'Oh, what a lot of questions all at once!' cried godmother. 'I can't answer so many. You must be content to find out some things for yourself, my little girl. The way to the other country for one. Shall you go there some day? Yes, indeed, many and many a time, I hope.'
Maia clapped her hands with delight.
'Oh, how nice!' she said. 'And when? May we go to-day? Oh, Silva, do ask godmother to let us go to-day,' she exclaimed, catching hold of Silva in her eagerness. But Silva only smiled, and looked at godmother; and somehow, when they smiled, the two faces—the young one with its bright rich colour, and the old one, white, so white, except for the wonderful, beautiful eyes, that it might have been made of snow—looked strangely alike.
'Silva has learned to be patient,' said godmother, 'and so she gets to know more and more of the other country. You must follow her example, little Maia. Don't be discouraged. How do you know that you are not already on the way there? What do you think about it, my boy?' she went on, turning to Rollo, who was standing a little behind them listening, but saying nothing.
Rollo looked up and smiled.
'I'd like to find the way myself,' he replied.
'That's right,' said godmother. And Maia felt more and more puzzled, as it seemed to her that Rollo understood the meaning of godmother's words better than she did.
'Rollo,' she exclaimed, half reproachfully.
Rollo turned to her with some surprise.
'You understand and I don't,' she said, with a little pout on her pretty lips.
'No,' said Rollo, 'I don't. But I like to think of understanding some day.'
'That is right,' said godmother again. 'But this is dull talk for you, little people. What is it to be to-day, Silva? What is old godmother to do for you?'
Silva glanced out of the window.
'The day will soon be closing into evening,' she said,' and Rollo and Maia cannot stay after sunset. We have not very long, godmother—no time to go anywhere.'
'Ah, I don't know about that,' godmother replied. 'But still—the first visit. What would you like, then, my child?'