eddy?" she asked.

"Hannah, I want to ask mamma something," said Teddy.

"Oh," said Hannah, "you wouldn't want me to call your poor mother, would
you, when she was up with you the whole of last night and has just gone
to lie down a bit?"

"I want to ask her something," repeated Teddy.

"You ask me what you want to know," suggested Hannah. "Your poor
mother's so tired that I'm sure you are too much of a man to want me to
call her."

"Well, I want to ask her if I may have a cracker," said Teddy.

"Oh, no; you couldn't have that," said Hannah. "Don't you know that the
doctor said you mustn't have anything but milk and gruel? Did you want
to ask her anything else?"

"No," said Teddy, and his lip trembled.

After that Hannah went down-stairs to her work again, and Teddy lay
staring out of the window at the windy gray clouds that were sweeping
across the April sky. He grew lonelier and lonelier and a lump rose in
his throat; presently a big tear trickled down his cheek and dripped off
his chin.

"Oh dear, oh dear!" said a little voice just back of the hill his knees
made as he lay with them drawn up in bed; "what a hill to climb!"

Teddy stopped crying and gazed wonderingly toward where the voice came
from, and presently over the top of his knees appeared a brown peaked
hood, a tiny withered face, a flapping brown cloak, and last of all two
small feet in buckled shoes. It was a little old woman, so weazened and
brown that she looked more like a dried leaf than anything else.

She seated herself on Teddy's knees and gazed down at him solemnly, and
she was so light that he felt her weight no more than if she had been a
feather.

Teddy lay staring at her for a while, and then he asked, "Who are you?"

"I'm the Counterpane Fairy," said the little figure, in a thin little
voice.

"I don't know what that is," said Teddy.

"Well," said the Counterpane Fairy, "it's the sort of a fairy that lives
in houses and watches out for the children. I used to be one of the
court fairies, but I grew tired of that. There was nothing in it, you
know."

"Nothing in what?" asked Teddy.

"Nothing in the court life. All day the fairies were swinging in
spider-webs and sipping honey-dew, or playing games of hide-and-go-seek.
The only comfort I had was with an old field-mouse who lived at the edge
of the wood, and I used to spend a great deal of time with her; I used
to take care of her babies when she was out hunting for something