Then she knew that she had fallen back, that she was in Disobedience Maze. It was the fog of Punishment Land that was rising about her, blotting out the sight of everything but of one little pink feather that lay, a rosy streak, close to her heart.
“My guardian child! my guardian child!” she cried with all her might.
“You wounded it; you drove it away,” chuckled the evil sprite.
Kitty put her hands up to her ears to shut out that jeering voice. She cried the louder.
“My guardian child! Forgive me! forgive me! Come back to me!”
There came a flutter of wings, something bright was flying toward her, piercing its way through the fog; yes, it was her guardian child dragging one wing, but bravely beating the air with the other, fluttering toward her, pale, its rainbow dress faintly shining, its eyes bright with tears.
“Because you trusted me Love sent me back to you,” it murmured as it nestled in Kitty’s outstretched arms. She burst into a great fit of grateful tears, while the sprite cowered and trembled.
“Hurry!” whispered the guardian child. “The star is gone. It will be difficult to find the path, but you must follow where I lead.”
A cry rose in Kitty’s heart: “I shall follow wherever you lead;” but she remembered how she had most disobeyed after she had most protested, so she sobbed and was silent.
Through the mist shone the rainbow-clothed form of the guardian child, and Kitty followed. Wherever her guide told her to plant her foot she placed it; through marshy ground that quivered and shook under her, where crawling things like living roots wound themselves about her feet, as if to drag her down, through narrow places where creatures that seemed all arms sought to clasp her and hold her back, over thorns that bruised and scratched her as she walked. Kitty followed her guardian child without a murmur. Tormenting apparitions waved their tiny lanterns and showed her an easier path, but Kitty did not glance aside. She kept her eyes steadfastly fixed upon the rosy-winged figure that went before her. One question only lay heavy at her heart. That lily-white face she had seen through the mist, was it Johnnie’s dead face? Ah! had she lost the Christmas blessing?