Lavender-Green Magic by Andre Norton Page A

seeing us—”
    Crock looked at her curiously. “It was in another time, you know. Whatever happened there must have happened a long time ago.” Only, he looked uneasy, as if that thought gave him little comfort. Tamar was too real. She could not just be a dream, or someone long ago—
    â€œRemember what Mrs. Pigot said.” Holly pulled together her thoughts. “She said Dimsdale had been cursed by a witch, a long time ago. But Tamar—”
    Somehow her thoughts would not fit there. Holly
knew
there was no ill will in Tamar.
    â€œShe couldn’t have been a witch, one who cursed people! Though that Patience, she was a Dimsdale—”
    â€œHow do you know that?” Crock demanded.
    Again Holly pointed out that what she had overheard proved it.
    â€œSo this Seth Elkins, he was supposed to be engaged to Patience Dimsdale, only he came to see Tamar, brought her a present,” said Crock slowly.
    Holly shook her head. “I don’t think it was like that, not really. He seemed mad at Tamar, too. As if she were stopping him from doing something, as if it weren’t really
Tamar
he came to see.”
    â€œBut she was the only one there,” Crock pointed out. “And she didn’t talk about anyone else living with her.”
    â€œYes. Only—only it didn’t seem as if he liked Tamar very well. Oh, I’m all mixed up! Crock, do you suppose we’ll ever know what happened? I don’t want anything bad to happen to Tamar—”
    â€œIf it did really happen,” Crock said, “and it was in olden days, then maybe it ought to be in a book or something. Your class goes to the library Monday, don’t they? Why don’t you try to find out there? ’Member what Grandma said about Miss Noyes always being after old books?”
    Crock made good sense, though sometimes Holly hated to admit it. Now she demanded to know if he had any ideas about how they were going to keep Judy quiet.
    â€œDon’t you try to tell her,” he returned. “When you tell people what to do, Holly, you only make them
not
want to do it the harder. Let me see—”
    He spurted ahead to catch up with Judy. Holly turned for a last look back at the tangled wilderness where the maze had been. The place bore no likeness now to the green gate, with its cat guardians of the pleasant ways beyond which led to Tamar’s place. Was it always summer there? Holly wondered. Could a person be caught in one time and held as if she were shut into a room and the key turned in the lock? And, if that were true, why could Tamar not have gotten out as they got in? What had the pillow to do with it all?
    The loud clang of a bell startled her so much she gave a little jump. Grandma’s house bell! Which meant it was dinner time! She had warned them about that the first day they had come. Holly, her back to the mysterious mass of entwined bushes, trotted toward the barn-house.
    She caught up with Crock just inside the door as he had shucked his windbreaker, heading for the wash basins. Judy was not in sight and Grandma was busy at the stove, her back conveniently turned in their direction.
    â€œJudy?” Holly shaped the name rather than said it.
    Crock nodded vigorously which Holly could only accept to mean that he had persuaded his twin not to talk about their morning’s activities, at least not yet. But he could not stop her sudden question at the table.
    â€œGrandma, when it’s winter—how do you keep your herb plants alive?”
    Holly wished she were close enough to deliver a warningkick, but Crock was between them. She glowered at her sister. Judy either could or would not see her.
    â€œWell now—most o’ ’em, they jus’ take care o’ themselves in th’ patch. Some—they’s more delicate an’ they can’t take frost. Them I brings into th’ big shed where Luther does his workin’ with wood.