The old lady went on talking about the wonderful luncheon they were to have until they were out of hearing. But the children on the gray wall could see that Helma was going in differently from the way she had come out. Her head was high, and she stepped out in her funny high heeled boots as though she were walking in sandals. At the little door into the mansion she turned and waved her queer great muff to the children and the Wind Creatures, and they heard her laugh. But when she was gone, and the door was shut and locked--they heard the great key scrape--Eric turned joyfully to Ivra. She was staring intently at the closed door, her face very pale. Suddenly she buried her head in her arms and burst into sobs, hoarse, jerky sobs, the first and the last time Eric was ever to hear her cry. Eric and the Wind Children sat cross-legged and waited. Soon she stopped and wiped her face on her sleeve. "She is locked in, but she _will_ find a way home," she said, almost laughing. "How glad and how surprised she was to see us! It was almost as though she had begun to believe all their talk about dreams, until she heard the Wind Creatures' wings!" The Wind Creatures took them back to the forest. Under the giant cedars they said good-by and left them. The children went straight to the Tree Man's to tell him the news. He gave them deep bowls of warm milk to drink, and took off their sandals so that their toes might spread and warm in front of the fire. Then the Tree Girl begged for a story, and Ivra told a World Story about the rivers,--how they go in search of their mother, the ocean, day and night, around mountains and through mountains, and across whole continents, and never stop until they find her,--and of the myriad presents they carry to her,--of the things they see and the things they do, as they flow searching. It was a long story. And almost before the end the little story teller had fallen asleep with her head tipped back against the Tree Man's chest. They spent that night in the tree, and that was good, for a storm had risen outside, and it was bitter cold in the forest. CHAPTER XI THE BEAUTIFUL WICKED WITCH The next morning before Eric woke Ivra slipped away to play with the Forest Children. "On such wild days as this they usually play indoors, for they're little things and the Snow Witches love to tease them," said the Tree Man. "Perhaps she'll be telling them World Stories," thought Eric, and so he decided to go to the little moss village, too, for though Ivra had told him dozens of World Stories by now, he always wanted to hear more. So after breakfast with the Tree Man and his pretty, shy daughter, he ran out in search of Ivra.