Suddenly she stopped and stood still looking away into the forest. Then she ran to Eric on the door stone. She cried, "Mother will come now. Don't you feel it? She will come with the spring!" Eric did feel it. For there was magic in the day. The magic came to him in the air, in the smell of the earth, in the new warm wind and said, "Everything is yours that you want. Joy is coming." And Mother Helma was what he wanted. So he felt sure she was on the way. "She must have found the key,--or do you suppose she climbed the gray wall?" wondered Ivra. "Shall we go to meet her?" asked Eric. "No, no. We must get the house clean and ready for her. We must hurry." And then such a house-cleaning was begun as you or I have never seen. The Forest Children had been up at dawn to greet the spring, and now they came running to tell Ivra and Eric about it. When they heard that Helma was at last coming back and the house was to be cleaned they wanted to help. First it was decided to wash the floor. Pail after pail of water from the fountain they splashed on it. Streamlets of water flowed into the fireplace and out over the door stone. Out and in ran the Forest Children trying to help, and with every step making foot prints on the wet floor, muddy little foot prints, dozens of them and finally hundreds of them. Then the windows were washed. 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. For now they were shining up the dishes, polishing them with cloths, and setting them in neat rows in the cupboard. Then Wild Star appeared, his hands full of spring flowers that he had found deep in the forest in the sunniest and most protected place, the very first spring flowers. "Helma must have gotten past that wall, now it's spring," he said; "and here are some flowers to greet her. See, I left the roots on, the way she likes them. Let's plant them by the door stone." They dug up the earth with their hands, Forest Children's hands, Wild Star's hands, Eric's and Ivra's,--and planted the flowers all about the door stone. Then Wild Star flew away a little languidly. Ivra looked after him. "He'll soon find the deepest, darkest, coolest place," she said, "make himself a nest of smooth leaves and dream away the summer. Fall and winter are his flying times. We shall see him at no more parties for a while." "And the Snow Witches? What will become of them?" asked Eric. "They will get into hollows of old trees and under rocks, draw in their skirts and their hair, curl up and sleep." "Good news!" thought Eric. But he did not say it for he knew Ivra liked the Snow Witches almost best of all to play with and would miss them.