Now that Spiller was back, everything suddenly seemed radiant. The flowers permeated the morning air with their sweet fragrance. Simple rays of sunlight stirred wondrous flakes of dust, that were dancing like fairies. The dark vines, that, not ten minutes ago had appeared so gloomy, now invited adventurous quests and Arrietty knew she could scale the walls to a new record today. Spreading her arms as wings, she imagined herself to be soaring, like the sparrow overhead that brought a nice, juicy meal to it's nesting mate.

So much in her fantasy world she was, that again she missed an important sound: the squeaking of the great side door. It was only her luck that had Mrs. Whitlace looking over her shoulder as she stepped outside, else Arrietty was seen for sure.

As it was, a hand grabbed hers out of the bushes beside the path she was walking on and with a small shriek—that Mrs. Whitlace discarded as coming from a mouse—she suddenly found herself huddled beneath a familiar figure.

Now, to a human being, borrowers were as light as a doll, a big mouse perhaps; an adult version may weigh as much as a kitten. To Arrietty, the weight of one, not quite adult, but surely manly enough borrower felt very heavy. Even without looking, she knew who it was and when she did look, two dark eyes were burning holes in hers. She almost forgot to breath. Breathing is difficult anyway, when someone is lying on top op you.

Spiller realised this as well and with a swift move, rolled aside. Together they stared at Mrs. Whitlace, who, humming, walked down the path to do her morning chores in the church. Later she would water the flowers in the garden, weed a little among the seedlings and probably wash the windows, since it was Monday.

Two pairs of eyes followed her billowing skirt until the closing of the gate announced them she was really gone.

Arrietty turned her head and found herself almost nose tot nose with the very person who had changed her morning from doom to glory, only minutes ago. They stared at each other. A soft breeze moved the tall grass that surrounded them. Distant murmurings of hidden creatures were heard on and over the earth, but close around them, the world had stopped spinning.

Arrietty's whispered 'thank you' didn't break the spell, even though it made Spiller's eyes flick to her lips a fraction of a second.

A strange tingly sensation overcame her at that moment; a giggle stirred, waiting to escape. She pressed her lips tight together to keep it in, the movement caused Spiller's eyes to flicker up and down again.

And all of a sudden, he rolled away and disappeared again.

Slowly, eyeing around, Arrietty got up and a little more careful, continued her way home.

***

Immediately on her return to the house, her mother knew something had happened. For one, Arrietty's eyes were bright and there was a spring in her step that had not been there this past week. The smile was a dead giveaway, and the humming. With wide eyes Homily stared after her daughter, as she passed through the kitchen, handing her mother a bouquet of freshly picked marigolds. A kiss on the cheek and off she went. The humming echoed all the way up to the entrance of the living quarters.

"What has gotten into that child?" she wondered aloud, adding a tiny slice of grated cheese to the stew in the stove. It was an old piece of dried meat from the larder, so the stew would have to simmer all day for the meat to become tender again. How she longed for one of Spiller's kills, even though the thought still gave her a chill. It just wasn't natural for borrowers to be so completely non-dependant on beans. No beans, no borrowers, that's what her mother used to say, and her mother before that. Arrietty saw those awful giants as possible friends, or at least, some of them. Their run-in with the Platters had luckily cured her of ever trying to communicate with them again. Yet, wistfully she stared around her, if it hadn't been for Arrietty's Miss Menzies, she wouldn't be cooking in such fine pots and pans, as it were. With a shrug she set the whole business of befriending human beans aside and finished the stew. Lid on top and ready she was.

Her hands full with a large bowl of breadcrumbs and cheese grating, she followed her daughter up the stairs. A warm meal they ate from the kitchen table; breakfast and lunch were better served in bright daylight.

She found a cheerful Arrietty in the cosy living room with it's greyish papered walls, setting the table and just finishing filling a neatly carved acorn that often served as a vase.

"Oh mother, you forgot the flowers. Never mind, I will fetch them", the girl almost sang, and off she was again.

"What has gotten into that girl?" Homily asked again. This time it was Pod who replied: "Darned if I know, but it must be something good now, wouldn't you think?" Here his hand came up to his chin and with a thoughtful glance outside he murmured: "I wonder ..."

His sentence was never finished, for here came the girl herself. She shortened the stems of the marigolds and placed them neatly in the vase. "Oh mother, do you remember the glass thimble we had back at Firbank? The way it caught the light in the afternoon; I wish we had one of those."

A sigh, a dreamy far off look, Yes, Pod sure did wonder.