Marilla sprang up and studied her. She was so pretty and her gown looked as if it was sprinkled with diamond dust. She had never seen any one like her, but at twelve her range of observation had been rather limited.
“Well, what do you think of me?”
Marilla stood wide eyed and speechless.
“Why—you are very beautiful. Oh, I wish you were a fairy godmother! I’d like to go to fairy land. I don’t think any one would mind much, but I do believe the twins would care. Bridget says there isn’t any such thing and then she tells about a little girl who was toted away and had to stay seven years.”
“You couldn’t stay that long, and times 7 have changed, and you have no envious sisters. You’re a rather lonely little body with no father or mother.”
“Oh, how did you know that?”
She laughed, the softest, merriest laugh.
Marilla looked and looked, the little body was so sweet and mysterious.
“Oh, fairy godmothers know a great many things. They keep watch over the Cinderellas and then when they find one to their liking they appear to her, and then strange things happen.”
“Yes they are strange,” said the little girl.