“Fairy godmother, you will always be the best thing in my life,” she said in a soft, sweet tone. “In the summer when I was wondering in that strange country and could not remember much, I felt a sweet quiet when you came, just as if some one found me and I was safe. Oh, I had never loved any one so dearly. I saw so little of my own mother and she was always tired, fairy godmothers are different.”
The door bell rang. “That must be Lorimer,” 245 said Dr. Richards and he reached the hall just as Jane opened the door. Miss Armitage let him greet his friend before she rose.
“Can’t I bring him in here?” asked the doctor.
“Oh, yes.”
“This room is my ideal, Lorimer. The grate fire and the shelves of books give one an immediate welcome. And allow me to present you to the presiding genius, Miss Armitage.”
It was indeed a charming home with an atmosphere that penetrated one’s soul, and they two looked as if they might have been born in it, they impressed you as being a subtle part of it. It was like a vision as Lorimer was seating himself, and his eyes caught the situation of the chess men.
“Some one made a false move,” he exclaimed, laughing.
“Is the white queen in danger? I can’t have her taken,” Marilla said breathlessly.
“Oh, are you on her side? If I had time I’d rescue her. I suppose my friend here, the doctor, has explained my errand—the rest 246 is—you are the little white queen and I am an ogre come to capture you and take you away.”
“But I’m not going,” returned the child. “When one has a fairy godmother one is enchanted and the evil ogre is powerless.”