Chapter Five
Bess and Bartlemay set up a great barking when she reached the cottage. “It’s me, sillies,” Maythorn said, and to her daughters, wide-eyed and anxious, clustered in the doorway: “It’s me!”
Dogs and daughters were equally confused. They all crowded into the little cottage, and Maythorn told her tale. “And each of you shall choose a wish, too. On your birthdays.” She hugged Ivy to her, laughing and crying at the same time. “Ivy, my precious Ivy. I wanted you to have your wish today, I wanted you to walk again.”
“It’s all right, Mother,” Ivy said, and her grave green eyes looked merry. “I haven’t long to wait. It’s only six weeks.”
“You look so different,” Larkspur said wonderingly. “Your face! And your hair is the color of sunshine.”
“How old are you?” Hazel wanted to know.
