--the beautiful queens we dream
of in our youth.

"Come," she commanded, and waved the sceptre in a fine manner. So we
followed, each tiny boy gripping my hand tight. We were all three a
trifle awed. Elsbeth led us into a dark underbrush. The branches, as
they flew back in our faces, left them wet with dew. A wee path, made by
the girl's dear feet, guided our footsteps. Perfumes of elderberry and
wild cucumber scented the air. A bird, frightened from its nest, made
frantic cries above our heads. The underbrush thickened. Presently the
gloom of the hemlocks was over us, and in the midst of the shadowy green
a tulip tree flaunted its leaves. Waves boomed and broke upon the
shore below. There was a growing dampness as we went on, treading very
lightly. A little green snake ran coquettishly from us. A fat and glossy
squirrel chattered at us from a safe height, stroking his whiskers with
a complaisant air.

At length we reached the "place." It was a circle of velvet grass,
bright as the first blades of spring, delicate as fine sea-ferns. The
sunlight, falling down the shaft between the hemlocks, flooded it with
a softened light and made the forest round about look like deep purple
velvet. My little godchild stood in the midst and raised her wand
impressively.

"This is my place," she said, with a sort of wonderful gladness in her
tone. "This is where I come to the fairy balls. Do you see them?"

"See what?" whispered one tiny boy.

"The fairies."

There was a silence. The older boy pulled at my skirt.

"Do YOU see them?" he asked, his voice trembling with expectancy.

"Indeed," I said, "I fear I am too old and wicked to see fairies, and
yet--are their hats red?"

"They are," laughed my little girl. "Their hats are red, and as
small--as small!" She held up the pearly nail of her wee finger to give
us the correct idea.

"And their shoes are very pointed at the toes?"

"Oh, very pointed!"

"And their garments are green?"

"As green as grass."

"And they blow little horns?"

"The sweetest little horns!"

"I think I see them," I cried.

"We think we see them too," said the tiny boys, laughing in perfect
glee.

"And you hear their horns, don't you?" my little godchild asked somewhat
anxiously.

"Don't we hear their horns?" I asked the tiny boys.

"We think we hear their horns," they cried. "Don't you think we do?"

"It must be we do," I said. "Aren't we very, very happy?"

We all laughed softly. Then