“Aren’t they dear children?” said Anne. “I didn’t know there were so many of them, and such pretty little things!”
“You’ll have to come out and let them see you just as you are,” said Nancy, delighted with the success of her illustrated fairy-tale. “They are just crazy, Anne!” So after Norma had sung another song, and Hugh had declared the “show” ended, the performers came out in front and made friends with the children. At first the little ones were shy of Anne, but gathered about her in an admiring group.
“Are you really a Fairy?” lisped one little tot, touching a fold of the tarlatan dress. “Can you make my dress look like that?”
“I wish I could!” said Anne, stooping over the baby, and patting her yellow curls. “Where do you live, Dear?”
“We live at the lighthouse,” volunteered the baby’s elder sister. “She’s Patty and I’m Alice Hopkins. We used to see you riding on a pony,” she added shyly. “But you looked cross, then. You didn’t look like a nice Fairy. Do you wear this all the time now?”
These were the nearest neighbors to Idlewild, except the Sacketts. But Anne had never noticed them till now. Their father had care of the great light that made the Harbor safe for boats.
The other children pressed close to Anne, eager to feel her costume and see if she were real. One little black-haired Finn stepped up. “Can’t I have one o’ them?” he asked, pointing to the flowers on Anne’s head.
“Of course you can!” she said, and taking off the wreath she untied it and gave a flower to each child as far as they would go around. “They will bring you good luck,” she declared.
Little Tom Maguire, pushing forward, boasted to the other children. “I know her! I seen her washin’ dishes when I went to the Camp ’tother day. She didn’t see me, though!”
“She never washed dishes!” protested Alice Hopkins. “Never!”