Chapter 15

Spiller had a hard time believing he had lost a whole week at the tree. He couldn't understand how a cracked bone had kept him unconscious for that long. He knew that pain had put him out on the bank. Larkspur told him that she had suspected by the swelling and the bruising that he had a break. He told he knew right away the minute it happened that the bone had cracked. He had heard it. She had set his leg, dragged him into the tree, and then had to reset it. He thought that might be what had kept him knocked out.

He thought perhaps his moments of consciousness had been longer than they had seemed, but when Larkspur told Spiller how worried she had been when he had started to run a fever, he told her about his previous illness. They speculated over tea and bread and jam as to whether or not the shock had caused him to relapse from whatever it had been.

Old human Cairncross had broken an arm once and Larkspur, with no one to talk to, had taken a keen interest in what the cook and maid had said about it when he was laid up. She had spent a lot of time in the kitchen wall listening to the women and almost felt like she knew them. They had talked about how the doctor had set the arm and how he had told the maid that the old man's age was against him at the time.

Bones apparently healed better when you were younger and this seemed to be true for Cairncross. His arm had never gotten back to full strength, but if that were true it boded well for Spiller, since he was young and reasonably strong. The arm had taken eight weeks to heal to the point where the old man was able to use it at all.

One thing terrified Spiller, and that was becoming a cripple. He knew of one borrower who had broken a leg and fifteen years later still limped. While he didn't particularly like this certain borrower, Spiller knew how difficult it was for him to get around with his badly healed leg. The idea of being like that terrified active Spiller. He was grateful for the way Larkspur had expertly bandaged his leg and determined to give it enough time to heal.

Since a leg bone was bigger than the bones in an arm, Spiller and Larkspur regretfully decided that it would probably take at least that long for Spiller's leg to heal even at his age. He would be there at least until Christmas and probably longer. That was a good thing when it came to food, since the whole family always gathered at the lodge for Christmas and there was lots of extra food, good food, that they didn't always have available.

Spiller was not totally surprised but saddened to learn that Larkspur didn't cook anything because she was afraid to be around fire. She'd been too traumatized by the house fire to want to work with fire, aside from boiling a bit of water for washing or making tea occasionally. She lived on raw food and what she could borrow from the kitchens.

This was not as bad as it seemed. Old human Cairncross was a spry old thing in spite of his weak left arm, but his wife had never recovered from the fire, either. She was pretty much an invalid. The cook and the maid were constantly sitting down to eat, and then having to leave at the sound of her bell, and when the maid brought the old lady's trays down, she often had not finished her food. The trays were often left sitting while other work was done.

The cook and the maid were often busy in the scullery which enabled Larkspur to get into the kitchen. The groundskeeper had his own cottage and very seldom came to the house, taking his orders directly from the old man, so he was not a worry.

This meant there was food, but Spiller often missed hot soup and stew and other things he'd gotten used to eating. He began to see what Pod meant about being spoiled by humans. He knew his mother had been teaching his sister to cook before she died, but since Alice had cared for Larkspur for so long, and Larkspur had been afraid to try to design a stove of her own when she got back in the wall fearing fire so deeply, she had never gotten to be much of a cook.

But, he thought, on her own like she's been, who did she have to cook for? She's been lonely, poor thing, but I'll see to it that she's not lonely anymore. He told her about some of the things Arrietty and her mother cooked, and Larkspur couldn't wait to try them.

"I'd so like to meet her. I can't wait until we can go. You really do like her, don't you?"

"No, I love her and I always will," Spiller said firmly.

If the food was plain at least there was plenty of it so Spiller made do and never criticized her. He had gone longer stretches on unimaginative food than this. His sister made him stay on his pallet for another two weeks, and then he tried standing a bit.

He could walk a few feet from one spot to another by stepping with his good leg and dragging the other, as he had done on his way to the house, but his leg was definitely not healed and not likely to be for awhile. He was always in a lot of pain and very weak after these attempts and Larkspur would scold Spiller to be patient. That was not one of his strong points. He could be as still as a statue when hunting, but inactivity in general was not his style, and he missed Arrietty so much. He told his sister this almost every day.

"She must really be pretty," Larkspur said teasingly one morning.

"No," Spiller said. "She's not pretty, Lark. She's beautiful. I'd give anything if I could see her right now."

"Be patient," Larkspur told him. "You will."

The third week he was at the house it seemed chillier and his sister confirmed that there had been more snow. It was not terribly deep but deeper than when they had left the tree. Spiller resigned himself to a long stay with Larkspur. She was not a good cook but she had taught herself to sew and she rivaled Homily and Sateen at that. She had made him two flannel nightshirts and they helped him stay warm and comfortable.

She mentioned to him that the food was going to improve shortly, since they heard the staff doing a lot of running around and heard things shifting around out in the human living quarters. Apparently the children and grandchildren would be arriving soon for their long holiday visit. Larkspur was wild to see Alice again and began to check the mousehole every day for messages from her.

"You can't leave anything there too long," she told Spiller, "or it attracts real mice."

"So she mostly leaves food?" he asked, glad to have a new topic of conversation. His inactivity was starting to bother him.

"Anything I ask for," Larkspur assured Spiller, which made him think of Miss Menzies. He missed her.

When Larkspur gave him the nightshirts, Spiller wished he could have shown her the suit Homily had made for him to wear to Halberd's wedding, but it was hanging back in the room he used at Daubery's house. While he had time to think he thought some more about what he and Arrietty could use for a home of their own when they married. He was drawn more and more to Little Fordham, especially if they were still able to marry in the spring.

He missed Arietty and he talked about her at least once a day but it was not all bad at the lodge. He and his sister had no end of other things to say to each other. She would sit beside him and sew as they told stories about what they had done since they had been on their own, and remembered fondly things they had done as children.

They both began to remember things that they thought had been long forgotten…birthday parties with cakes and presents, stories their father used to tell around the stove on cold winter nights, the births of their younger siblings, the way their mother had sung when she worked and the way their father had whistled and walked in the door after every hunting trip asking, "Well, what's new?"

If the lodge had to be Spiller's prison, it was a reasonably pleasant one. Getting a piece of his history back was a wonderful experience. He would have been perfectly happy there, except for the fact that he continued to worry about Arrietty.

Arrietty did not worry about Spiller too much at first. There was too much to do to get the new home straight and comfortable. Pod had figured out the old miller's routine and was trying to borrow as much as he could.

"He'll go away at Christmastime to see his children," Pod reminded Homily and Arrietty, "and we don't know how long he'll be gone. We need to stock up."

The flat was cold at times, but no colder than it had been by the grating at Firbank in the winter. They had warm clothes and blankets, and Homily kept the little pot bellied stove roaring. During the day Arrietty was too busy to miss Spiller. At night, however, she missed him dreadfully.

She missed his teasing voice, his v-shaped smile, his dark eyes looking at her with love or sometimes amusement. She missed watching his long fingers deftly working, or yes, she had to admit it. She missed the feel of them on her skin. She kept thinking about their lovemaking, about how it had gotten better each time, and was certain it could get even better still. It seemed like something had been missing, something she still had to find out.

It also got her thinking about her mother and father's marriage. She had never really given it a lot of thought before. Now, thinking of marriage in personal terms, she thought about it quite a bit. Thinking about it made her sad.

Pod, she thought, had married Homily because he thought she would be a suitable, dutiful wife and there was nothing more to it. He was pleased with what he had received in the way of a harmonious home life and they had a steadfast union but Arrietty did not think he was madly in love with Homily or that he ever had been. He was dedicated to her, admired her skills as a wife and mother, and respected her, but Arrietty didn't think Pod really had any strong passionate feelings for his wife.

She wondered if at any time in his youth he had ever had the strong longings that she was now feeling for Spiller or if Pod had ever felt as close to Homily physically as she had when she and Spiller had become so intimate. To be that close to someone you loved was heavenly, but Arrietty didn't think her parents had set out to find that in a mate.

That probably had been common when Pod and Homily were young, Arrietty realized. The idea of making suitable marriages in the borrower world, like the human world, was probably the norm more often than not, and those marriages were probably just as esteemed as love matches, if not more so, but Arrietty didn't want to live like that. She wanted to love and be loved, not just get along with someone.

Arrietty thought back to the way Pod had always kissed Homily the same way he kissed Arrietty, on the cheek, quick pecks. She had never she realized with a start seen him kiss her on the mouth and he treated her like a child in other ways, too. She certainly had never heard him tell her that he loved her or she him.

With a start Arrietty realized that even when things were at their blackest, when it seemed like their lives were as good as over, Homily had always told Pod how good he was and how she had tried to be a good wife to him. When they had thought a ferret was about to get them, he had told her she had been first rate, not how much he loved her. If Arrietty and Spiller were trapped somewhere and thought they were going to die, Arrietty was quite sure she would tell him she loved him.

That did not mean Pod and Homily had a bad marriage. They never seriously quarreled and got along well enough but it wasn't the way Arrietty envisioned marriage. Their relationship had developed before they began to discuss marriage.

She wanted to love Spiller deeply and have him love her just as much. She wanted a true partnership which was why she was so happy when Spiller told her he loved her, when he praised her intelligence and spirit, and gave her affection even if it had to be subdued in front of others. She was suddenly glad she hadn't grown up in the big house when there were lots of borrowers there. She imagined her parents casting an eye out for someone who was suitable for her to marry and then pushing her into it.

She even wondered about Halberd and Hemiola, Arista and Burgonet. They loved each other, of that she was sure, but had the love come later? Had they first looked on it as just the first suitable match that had come along?

Spiller had been the first borrower who had come along for Arrietty, and they had probably had something in the back of their minds all along about what it might be like to develop a relationship, but they had been friends for a very long time before deciding they were in love. Perhaps that friendship had laid the foundation for the feelings that came later. She often fell asleep reading Miss Menzies' poetry book and wondering about the mysteries of love and marriage.

After a couple of weeks she did start to worry, however. She worried that something had happened to Halberd and Hemiola either on the way to the stove or at it. Had he crashed the raft? Had the gypsies caught them? Was Spiller trying to save them or was he on his way to Lupy and Hendreary, Daubery and Sateen with bad news?

Arrietty had worried from the start that Halberd and Hemiola were making a mistake setting out for the stove right after the wedding. Now she was really worried. The weather was not too bad yet. There had been cold but not bitter cold. The river was icy and rough but not impossibly so. There had been snow but not blizzard-like conditions. She hadn't seen any sort of weather that would have stopped Spiller from traveling. She told herself that he would be fine. So the first thing that came to mind was a problem with Halberd and Hemiola.

After three weeks, then four, she did start to worry about Spiller, though. The time he had been gone seemed everlasting to Arrietty. She began to panic, but had to hide it from Pod and Homily who were so happy at the mill and didn't seem to be worried about him at all.

"Oh, you know Spiller," Homily said when Arrietty did venture to bring it up. "He comes and goes as he pleases. I'm sure he'll be back eventually. Now let's get out the material. There's more sewing to be done."

By the beginning of December, though, Arrietty knew something was wrong. She knew he had never meant to be gone this long. She was not having a baby and wished she could tell him so, knowing how relieved he would be, but when he had been away over a month she knew in her heart that he has not meant to be gone so long. She began to think something dreadful had happened to him.

Arrietty almost wished she were having his child. What if he never came back? She would have nothing, and everything he had been to her, everything he was would be gone. She wondered every night if he was hurt out in the snow, sick or injured and alone, possibly dying without the one person who loved him the most beside him. A thousand awful things could have happened to him and she thought of them all.

While Spiller and his sister were having roast goose and potatoes borrowed from the Cairncross Christmas dinner, Arrietty was weeping for what she was sure was her lost love, but Spiller had been having a wonderful Christmas season. Alice's father had brought her back to the lodge to spend Christmas with her grandparents as expected, and the day after she had arrived, Alice had put a large piece of gingerbread into the mousehole as a gift. The scent of it had wafted through the wall.

Larkspur went to see Alice, who had been watching for a sign of her borrower friend, and told her about Spiller. Alice was delighted that Larkspur had a brother again and was sympathetic about his leg. She even made him a little chair with wheels attached, that she had taken from one of his little half-brother's broken toy motorcars, and with that Larkspur was able to bring Spiller out behind the human wing chair to see Alice, in spite of his splinted immobile leg.

She was a lovely girl in her late teens, Spiller surmised, with golden hair and wide blue eyes, wearing a simple dress made of a soft material that fell straight from her shoulders and over her thin frame. She had black stockings and high button shoes, a sweet voice and rather outsized teeth. Those didn't matter as much when she smiled, and she smiled often when she was around Larkspur.

The rest of the family had gone out to cut down a Christmas tree, a German custom that Cairncross was not that fond of, but tolerated for the sake of the grandchildren. Alice had stayed home saying she felt a possible cold coming on and no one had tried to force her to join in. There was a lethal strain of influenza going around and they wanted everyone to stay healthy for the holidays.

They had a lovely time together. Alice was amazed when she saw Spiller. "You two definitely look like brother and sister. Did you favor your father more, or your mother?"

"Father," Spiller said firmly. "Lark looks just like him."

Larkspur beamed as if he could not have paid her a higher compliment.

"Lark," Alice said. "I like that. My little brothers call my Ally."

Alice served them tea, sandwiches, and shortbread, and they talked about the fire. Alice told Spiller how happy she was that Larkspur had finally found a member of the family again and mourned her own losses.

Alice still missed her mother and sisters, although the little half-brothers had brought life back into her father's house, and he was definitely glad to have heirs. The stepmother though, was already making plans for Alice's debut, and Alice was fairly sure her parents would expect her to marry someone of their station soon after.

Spiller was heartily glad that he had been able to choose a wife for himself instead of having one chosen for him. Again he worried about Arrietty. He wondered if there was some way he could use this Alice human to get word to her, but he soon gave up the notion as impractical. A human girl going to the mill to try to locate Pod and Homily was a mad idea.

Even if Arrietty heard Alice calling and wanted to answer, Pod would never have allowed it. If Pod knew a human was aware of their home at the mill, he would be badgering Spiller to find them another home as soon as spring came, and Spiller was pretty much out of options.

He thought of asking her to hunt down young Tom Goodenough, but even that idea seemed impractical when he gave it some more thought. What could Tom do for him? He could tell Hendreary and Lupy that Spiller had broken his leg but none of them would be able to get word to the mill, either. No, Spiller was at the mercy of his broken leg and the weather. He was keeping the leg perfectly still so it could heal, not that he could have moved it if he wanted to, the way his sister had it splinted.

Alice did give Larkspur some very nice human bandages, though, that Larkspur used to reset his leg. Very carefully balancing it on a pillow, she did this once a week, trying to shift the splints with care and tie it back up tight every time.

Every day when Alice came to visit she left them something, such as hardboiled egg, a spool of thread, sharp needles, a handkerchief to make a new sheet with, or a woolen scarf to turn into new blankets. She came one day with a banana, and as the days passed they also got an orange, chocolate biscuits, and finally a scoop of plum pudding. They now had beef, ham, and cooked vegetables and Spiller was glad. He thought more meat would help him build up his strength quicker. He was used to regular protein.

Once when they were chatting, and Spiller said again how much his missed Arrietty, Lark mentioned to Alice that Arrietty had grown up under the floor at Firbank Hall.

"I know Firbank Hall!" Alice exclaimed. "My grandfather was friends with the man who owned it. He died years ago before I was born, but Grandfather used to go there to visit sometimes. The woman was hurt somehow, and couldn't get around very well. They finally had to put her in a nursing home so she could get special care."

"That's Great-Aunt Sophie," Spiller said. "Pod talks about her a lot.

"Well, I guess she died recently," Alice said. "Her sons have wanted to sell the place for ages, but they didn't want to do it while she was alive. Now they plan on selling it."

Spiller whistled. "I'll have to tell Pod that. Homily will be sad to hear it. Misses it like mad, she does. She always wanted to go back there."

"Well, if you could go in the spring, perhaps you can take her." Alice looked thoughtful. "They're going to start going through the place after Christmas. The sons are going to take what they want, and so are the grandchildren. Then they're going to have an estate sale, and I guess they're doing some work to get it ready for a buyer. It's not ready to be sold but it will be."

"I'm not sure if that would be a good idea," Spiller said, shaking his head.

The night the Cairncross family had a dance for the gentlefolk from the neighboring estates Spiller and Larkspur sat just inside the mousehole listening to the music. The social season had begun in November, with each country squire offering up entertainments at intervals, an endless round of dances and dinners

The rooms gleamed with glass candlesticks and silver candlesticks when they had a party, fires roaring in the huge fireplaces, and when the two drawing rooms were opened into each other, the yellow brocade on the walls made the dark and heavy human furniture seem to glow in the candlelight. Spiller and Larkspur peeped out occasionally when the small orchestra was playing to see the women in their fancy dresses dancing with the men in their black suits and gleaming white shirts.

"I wish you could see the suit Homily made me for Halberd's wedding. It was so well made. I really looked good in it," Spiller said wistfully.

"I shall someday," his sister told him, patting his shoulder as he leaned over in his wheeled chair, trying to see.

"When I get well enough to go back to see Arrietty, Homily and Pod, you'll come with me, won't you? It's only half a day's ride downriver. Arrietty and I can bring you back whenever you want, but I do so want you to meet her," Spiller said firmly.

"I'd like that, but do you think they'll like me? I haven't been anywhere in so long. I wouldn't know how to behave," Larkspur said sadly.

"They'll love you because I do," Spiller answered. "Arrietty will for sure. She's going to be so happy for us! I'd like you to come meet my other friends, too. "

"Does Arrietty like to dance?" Larkspur asked, peeking out at the humans.

"Oh, yes," Spiller exclaimed. "Was never very good at it, but she is and I'm getting better. Never thought of myself as a dancer, but if she wants to dance, I do it." He told her then about the cottage at Little Fordham and how they had danced to set the floor. He told her more about the village, the trains, Pott and Miss Menzies. He described them so well that his sister could almost see them in her mind. She never tired of hearing stories about Little Fordham and they even had a long talk one afternoon with Alice about it.

"I remember that one legged Mr. Pott," Alice said. "I was running on the path and tripped and fell down. I got my dress dusty and started to cry. He called me a pretty little maid and told me to stop crying and gave me a ginger biscuit. He was very kind. I was afraid of him at first, because the only peg legged people I had ever heard of were pirates, but after he talked to me I wasn't afraid anymore."

Spiller laughed. "He is kind and not anything like I'd expect a pirate to be." He told them about the badger and how Pott had lost his leg. Larkspur and Alice were impressed by the exciting story.

There was another party for New Year's Eve, which got quite loud. The humans celebrated the end of 1902 and the beginning of 1903 noisily and well. After New Year's Alice had to go. She came to see them and told them she wasn't sure if she'd be back at Easter. "Papa is talking about finishing the winter in Europe."

"I've been talking to Spiller about going visiting with him, so I might not be here either," Larkspur said. "I'm sure he's going to want to go home as soon as possible. He's engaged to be married and his fiancée doesn't know he got hurt or where he is. He wants me to meet her and I want to meet her. "

"Is there anything I can do to help?" Alice wanted to know, but really there was nothing and they told her so. Until Spiller's leg healed completely he couldn't start trying to build up the strength in it again.

That he started to do at in January. They kept his leg splinted, but he tried to stand more and move more. He was a bit shaky at first; hardly able to hold himself upright, but he gradually got better and practiced every day with his crutches up and down the passageways.

He thought his leg was healing since he had less pain when he moved his feet, slowly at first, then a bit more quickly. He got to where he could get up himself with his crutches for support, instead of his sister having to pull him to his feet. He started out with a few minutes at a time and then built up day by day the time he spent trying to stand and walk. Spiller would walk slowly along until it ached under his arms from the crutches and he was so exhausted he was trembling with the effort and had to sit down.

He wanted the splints off but Larkspur was afraid to do that, so he was just shuffling along on the crutches for the most part. She promised to go to just a tight wrapping the end of January, and then they would see how it went. Better, she said, be safe than sorry.

Arrietty was absolutely miserable at the mill while all this was going on and even her parents had become to worry. Pod spoke wistfully of Spiller appearing with a boat chockfull of borrowings to supplement the food they had stored, but Arrietty got angry at this.

"Can't you ever want to see him just for him?" She asked sharply. "After all he's done for us already you should like him for himself."

"I do like him. I'm just used to him coming along right when we need him and bringing us things. He's always been so good at that," Pod said, licking the end of a piece of thread.

He had spent the last of the autumn woodworking, making some new furniture. He really was a wonder at building things. Homily had a new bench just inside the sitting room door off the hallway that she was especially fond of. She ran a dust cloth over it every morning. But now Pod was spending the winter making new shoes for everyone in his family, plus for Lupy, Hendreary, Grego, Halberd and Hemiola, Burgonet and Arista, Daubery and Sateen. He wanted to make some for the younger girls and for Timmis but he was afraid they would have outgrown the patterns he had for their feet by then.

Even though they had spent what seemed like an age sewing and knitting at Little Fordham while they were getting ready to move, Homily kept sewing. She had made the rag rugs she wanted, for the sitting room and for all of the bedrooms. "Very cozy they are, too!" She exclaimed when the last one was done and laid out on the floor next to Arrietty's bed. "Now when you step out of bed you won't be stepping on the cold floor.

She then made new sheets and more blankets, and then moved onto petticoats and drawers. "You can never have too many of those," Homily said firmly.

She also had that opinion about socks. She and Arrietty knitted endless socks, heavy ones out of the last of the baby yarn, and thinner ones out from spools of cotton. She did some white ones and some black ones out of cotton and often the spool would tip over and roll across the floor making almost as much noise as the ice on the river crashing against the bottom of the mill, and the wind howling through the windmill's blades.

"I wish the weather would get better," Arrietty said fretfully one night as she strained to sew the hem of an apron by candlelight. "Then maybe Spiller would come."

"It hasn't been that bad," Homily started to say, but shifted gears quickly at the look Arrietty gave her, "but of course we don't know where he was last."

"No, we don't," Pod said stoutly. "Could have been by the gypsies. Got to be careful by the gypsies. Don't want Mild Eye to catch him. That would be the end of him for sure."

Arrietty burst into tears at this, and shouted, "Papa, how horrid! Really!"

She got up and ran to her room sobbing as Pod stood stunned looking after her. He looked across at Homily and sighed deeply. "She really does love him you know. Have to face it, old girl. Were we ever that young?"

Homily sighed and bent over her knitting. "No, I don't think so. At least we never acted like that."

"I really do think we're going to have a wedding," Pod said gently, setting down the boot he still had in his hand.

Homily sighed again and looked at him. "I suppose so. I'm trying to get used to the idea, Pod. I really am. But they are just both so young!"

"We will have to talk it out when he comes back," Pod murmured, almost as if to himself.

"If he ever comes back," Homily said tartly.

When Larkspur finally got all of the bandages and splints off and Spiller tried to stand without having his leg braced at all he was horrified. The leg he had broken had healed straight and the bone seemed strong enough, but that leg was pale looking and thinner than the other one. He needed to start exercising the muscles, which he did with a vengeance. He worked on it all through February until almost March.

"It's getting on for spring," he said to Larkspur. "As soon as the last of the snow is gone I want to try to head out for the mill. We'd better start packing. Anything you want to take along, you need to get ready. Do you think you could check on the boat and see if it looks all right? It certainly feels like it's getting warmer out."

She took her cloak and slipped out of the house, returning with an apron full of nuts from one of the tins in the tree and good news. "It's getting warmer," she agreed. "It's raining on and off, but the leaves are starting to come out on the trees. When we go we have to make sure it's slippery enough on the bank to get the boat out. I think it is, since the ice is melting and it's muddy. Are you going to be strong enough to help push it off? Pushing it off will be harder than pulling it up over ice was. I think I'll need help."

"I think so," he said, looking at his leg, which he was keeping wrapped again to brace it.

"And you truly think you can make it downstream to the mill?"

"Yes. If I had to punt upstream it would be hard. But going downstream will be easier. I need to get to the mill and when I do we can stay there for awhile so I can rest. Arrietty can come with and help when it's time to cast off. Then we can go see everyone else. Daubery would be the first spot after the mill, then Lupy and Hendreary, then the gypsy camp. Halberd and Hemiola are there. Then it's Arista and Burgonet. Can't wait to see whether they had a boy or a girl. Then it's Little Fordham. Anywhere along the way I can stop for as long as I want."

His sister shook her head. "Sounds like an ambitious project for someone who was hurt as badly as you were."

"That was the beginning of November," he argued. "It's now the beginning of March. I feel much stronger now. I know a borrower who broke his leg so badly he's still limping years later, but he does all right with it."

The next morning was the morning they made their attempt. They started getting ready at dawn. The weather was good, sunny and clear, if a bit cool. First they went to the boat and got it back into the water. It slid very easily over the mud.

"Dad sure picked a good spot for concealing a boat," Spiller said.

"I remembered this spot well," Larkspur said simply. "Do you really think we look most like him?"

"Yes," Spiller said. "Young borrowers always take after their fathers. Everyone says that."

They went to the tree and got all of Spiller's gear from the boat that his sister had stored there for the winter. His fish stringer, crochet needle and butter knife had gone through the winter very well. He had to work a little on his bow, but the arrows were all right. The points still seemed attached well enough to the shafts which had not warped. After they got those things loaded they brought out the things from the house. Spiller walked carefully but it seemed like his leg was fine. He was lucky it hadn't been a worse break.

The canopy over the knife box was in terrible shape. It had not survived the winter and Spiller was nearly sick about that, but it was his own fault, he told himself. He should have explained to his sister why it had to be removed and brought in out of the elements, but he had completely forgotten to do that, and she hadn't known how dilapidated it would get out in the snow.

When she mentioned how much it had fallen apart, Spiller didn't want to hurt her feelings so he told her it was not going to be hard to fix.

"The miller uses this kind of canvas on the sales of the windmill blades. I can get a new piece from him when we get to the mill and Pod can help me cut it and put it on. Pod's very handy. He can make almost anything when he sets his mind to it. He's got a good mind."

"I can't wait to meet him," Larkspur assured him. "I'm going to pack extra clothes so I can go visit some of your other friends before we come back here."

"Let's just hope it doesn't rain until we get to the mill," Spiller said. "We would get leaked on for sure if it did." He paused, and frowned, thinking. "Are any of your tobacco tins empty? When I redo the canopy I think I want it to be a bit different. I want a storage area where I can keep things dry."

They got one into the boat and shoved it into the back. Using the crochet hook as he directed, his sister pushed off of the bank on one side, and he used the butter knife to push off on the other. They landed in the water with a plop and a splash. Larkspur shrieked until the boat settled down in the river and started moving. Then she plunked down on her bottom gripping the crochet hook like a spear.

"The river is high and running fast," Spiller assured her. "We should make good time. There must have been an awful lot of snow this year for it to be so high."

She shrugged. "It snowed a little, then a lot, then a little. It wasn't really that bad of a winter but I guess now that it's all melting it looks like a lot.'

As she calmed down Larkspur was fascinated by everything they passed. There was the smell of damp earth in the air, of springtime. The trees were just starting to have a green veil of buds on them and a few already had sweet smelling blossoms. The hedges looked spindly but full of promise. The breeze was brisk but as they traveled the sun got warmer. She came out from under the tattered canopy and sat behind her brother and tilted her face up to it.

"Oh, I had forgotten what it was like outdoors!" Larkspur exclaimed. "Back at the lodge I never went further than the tree, or once in awhile the river, and then I always hurried back inside when I had whatever I needed. I had forgotten what it was like out in nature."

"Love it, I do," Spiller said, "and so does Arrietty. Never could make it work between us if she wanted to be indoors all the time. Glad I am that she likes the out of doors."

"I can't wait to meet her!" Larkspur said for the hundredth time. She was so excited.

After a couple of hours, Larkspur brought out the scraps of food she had brought for their luncheon and as they traveled on the rushing river, she handed Spiller bits of cracker, raisins, and biscuit. She sat behind him and munched her own meager meal as she watched the riverbank fly past. The sun rose higher in the sky and the water began to look brownish and muddy in spots. Occasionally they heard human voices in the distance, muted, or human sounds, like a bicycle bell on a not so distant path, but Spiller did not seem concerned by these things, so she wasn't either.

The water began to look clearer as they got further downriver. Once Larkspur saw the outline of a large fish in the water and got so worked up it might as well have been a whale. Spiller smiled at this. "I do a lot of fishing in this river," he told her. "Someday I'll take you fishing the way Dad took me."

"I'd like that," she exclaimed. "It sounds like ever so much fun. I don't think Dad ever would have taken me though. He would have thought fishing was men's work. He loved having you to do things with and he was so hoping that last baby was another boy. They were going to call him Basil."

"He would have been happy enough with another girl, Lark," Spiller argued. "He loved you girls. He loved all of us."

The fish had been one thing, but Larkspur got equally excited at the sight of a rat running across a large branch that ran down the river bank. It fell off and landed in the water with a splash, and began to swim back to the bank, where it shook itself off and gave them a very disgusted look as if it were embarrassed they had seen.

"I didn't know they could swim!" Larkspur exclaimed, leaning over a bit, the wind whipping one long piece of black hair out so that it stretched straight behind her.

Spiller nodded. "If they have to but it's not a normal thing for them."

The stream, Spiller noted, had risen almost to the base of the bluff they had to pass to get to the curve that would mean they were coming close to the mill. They passed the clump of willows that stood like sentinels before the mill, and there it was.

"I never thought I'd see it again!" Spiller exclaimed, "But there Lark…see it?"

Due to the high water, they couldn't go straight underneath. He took the long way around, guiding the boat carefully. His legs were getting shaky and his sister saw that.

"Are you all right?"

"Just tired," he said. "Once we get the boat moored I can use my crutches to go in. Glad we brought them! I'll be fine now indoors most places, but it's terribly uneven ground under the mill until we get up under the floor and I'll need them at some of the other places I go where I have to walk outdoors a lot. Outdoors, I think I want to use them at least part of the time, so I can be steadier. Let's get ready to tie up."

"Moor the boat at both ends this time," Larkspur said dryly, and Spiller looked startled, and then started to laugh.

"Never made that mistake before and I never will again," he assured her.

When they got to Spiller's usual spot to tie up when he had to come in behind the mill he tossed a rope and caught hold of the piece of wood he used as a dock post when he had to come in this way. He drew the rope in, fastened it, and then made the other end just as tight. The knife box boat was as firmly moored as he had ever moored it.

He sat down rather abruptly to catch his breath. He heard footsteps overhead. "The miller is getting ready to do repairs," Spiller told Larkspur. "He always does that in the spring. First indoors, then out."

"Do we have to worry about running into him?" she asked, as she stared ahead into the dark passageway between the boards. "Do we have to worry about being seen here?"

"No, we'll be under him all the time. When we get settled and I've rested up I'll have to go see if he's done any blade repairs, though. I want to make sure I get enough canvas to redo my canopy. Pod can help me with that."

They gathered the personal belongings they had brought with and set them on the board next to the river. He helped his sister climb out, and then handed her the crutches. She then helped him out. It was hard going. He was heavy and the step up was awkward, but when he got up, she went to hand him the crutches. "Are you sure you need these? You can leave them behind you know if you think you're all right."

He shook his head. "I want to be safe and sure going up under the mill. Put my pack on for me, will you? It will be easier for me to carry it if it's on my back." He didn't say so, but he wanted Arrietty to see right away that he hadn't stayed away so long on purpose. He wanted her to know he hadn't come back because it had been impossible, not because he didn't want to. He was a bit afraid she'd be angry with him for not keeping his promise to stay with her during the winter.

Larkspur arranged his pack on his back, looped his quilt through the ties, and then he was ready to go. He got one crutch under each arm, and looked at her as she picked up her own things. "Are you ready, Lark?"

"As ready as I'll ever be," she said.

He began to swing himself down the hallway toward Pod's home. He was worried about what he would find but determined to get there and sort it all out. When they reached his bedroom next to the storeroom he had Larkspur help him drop off his pack. With that done he moved more quickly on his crutches past the storeroom and kitchen to the sitting room.

Larksput followed him looking about with great interest. The mill concealed what was a very comfortable, typical borrower home. A man with a round, doughy face that she assumed was Pod, sat in a chair, working on a boot. He looked just as Spiller had described him.

That must be Homily. Larksput thought, a rail thin woman with a pointed face, neatly dressed, hair tucked up, talking to her daughter. She and Arrietty were standing facing each other and Larkspur thought Arrietty was lovely, with shining brown hair and warm, expressive eyes that had a hint of mischief. She eyed her future sister-in-law over Spiller's shoulder. Were the two women having some kind of discussion or an argument?

Neither Larkspur nor Spiller knew. Both of them cast the first glance they made as they stepped into the room at Arrietty's waist. If she was having a baby it certainly wasn't showing. Larkspur was glad. She would have loved a nephew or niece, but at the proper time. Her brother would definitely have time to make amends for his transgression of propriety.

Spiller gave a huge sigh of relief. When he did, the two women looked up. Arrietty's eyes widened with shock, disbelief, and then an utter joy that filled Larkspur's heart with gladness. If ever love shown through on a face, it was there on this girl's face now, but the shock was understandable.

Spiller looked awful. His hair was shaggy and his face was paler than Arrietty had ever seen it and he was thinner than she had ever seen him, too. Hunched over his crutches he stood there looking at her and she had never been so glad to see anyone.

She threw herself at him, almost knocking him over as she wrapped her arms around his neck weeping. "Spiller! Spiller! Spiller! I missed you so much! What happened to you?" She stepped back as if to drink in the sight of him, and then became aware of Larkspur standing behind him. When Lark stepped tentatively into the room, Homily twisted the dishtowel in her hands and Pod slowly rose as Arrietty stepped back from Spiller and stared.

The two young women eyed each other, one startled, and one smiling. Larkspur saw a spirited girl that she thought was a perfect match for her brother, and Arrietty saw a strange young woman that she somehow felt she ought to know. Something about this girl was familiar, very familiar. As she glanced from her to Spiller, a thousand questions crossed her face and she seemed almost terrified.

Neither of them had thought of what it would be like when he just walked in with another girl. Larkspur wanted to reassure Arrietty but she was suddenly shy in this family's presence. She nudged her brother's arm and he looked back at her and grinned. .

"I couldn't come back to you when I wanted to. I broke my leg," Spiller said, "and was laid up pretty much trapped for the winter, but it was worth it in a way. Because of it I found a treasure. Arrietty, this is my sister, Larkspur. Lark, this is my Ari."