ever can I dare!"

She almost tumbled from her perch, so great appeared her presumption in
allowing the thought of coming so near to the Fairy Prince even in
imagination.

But the hopeful voice was talking again:

"Do not put yourself down all the time; there may be no reason why you
should not rise, _if you will!_"

Sally sat down and began thinking in half wonder. "Now what, oh, what,
makes me to have thoughts like that?" she asked, in perplexity. "Are
there very truly two Sallys inside my skin?"

She was too much in earnest to laugh as she went on: "All is, if there
be, we must help each other. Thankful should I be to rise in the world,
and great, great joy would it be if some good Fairy could come and live
with me, helping me to rise. Listen, listen will I for your voice, good
Fairy, and run wherever you send, and do whatever you bid."

Then Sally heard many voices, and the rustle of silken garments, and she
knew that a soft swish of fine muslins and delicately shod feet were
coming over the lawn.

She dared one peep at the gay company. There was Corniel, in all his
glory, viewing the table he had spread so finely, and Sam Spruce, with a
high head and knowing air, directing the waiters by signs and nods. The
company was a mixed show of splendid coats, gowns, and shimmering laces,
but the peep was a short one, and Sally was seated again.

A great chattering, mixed with joyous laughter, floated across the wall,
but a "mocker," the lovely mocking-bird of the South, mingled his notes
with it all, and Sally could hear nothing distinctly in the pleasant
confusion.

Then the charming bird-notes hushed, as some one asked plainly a
question of the Fairy Prince.

"To which university do you go, Master Lionel, to Oxford or to
Cambridge?"

"I hie me to England in the early fall, to be tutored a year for Oxford.
It is to the older university I would go."

"And how old may Oxford be?" asked a young voice.

"It was founded by Alfred the Great, 'way back in the ninth century,
872," came in the firm, assured voice of the Fairy Prince.

"And Cambridge?" asked some one else.

"In 1257," came the quick reply.

"And you go in the _Belle Virgeen_?"

"In the _Belle Virgeen_, most surely."

"What will be the whole course?" was the next question.

"Five years if I finish. Affairs may be such as to prevent my
finishing."

"Oh! Ah! Indeed!" cried a voice of mock surprise. "Five years to fit a
lad, who already hath