“There’s nothing to be afraid of, lillä vannen,” comforted her mother, trying to steady her own voice. “We are right here where we can see you through the windows.”
“Where did you get those flowers?” Kaisa’s tones were sharper than usual. “Not on the river bank, surely.”
“Gerda and I—we went up—up the path a little ways just a little ways,” said the girl, “to pick them.”
“That’s blue vervain!” screamed Kaisa, raising her arms in horror. “Throw it away, child; it’s cursed!”
The little girl dropped the flowers.
“Pick it up and throw it out!” she ordered.
“Hush!” said Olga, stooping for the flowers. “Do not frighten the little one. That’s but an old foolish superstition.”
She crossed to the door and flung the blossoms far. Coming back, she asked Silent Sven if he had some candy for the children. He pulled a bulky bag from his pocket.
“Do not go up the path again,” cautioned Olga. “Stay on the river bank. Now run and play with the others. Mind you give some candy to the rest!”
The girl reached eagerly for the bag and started for the door, drying her eyes with one hand. She ran off the board platform, darted between the wagons hitched in front of the store, and on down to the river bank where the children were swinging on the young willows.