"Did she really say that?" asked Freda wonderingly.
"Yes, when her mother had punished her for running away."
Fibo smiled at the recollection as he spoke. Then he put the sketch into Daffy's hand.
"You can have it if you want it. This is only a copy. I have the original."
Daffy took the picture with a radiant face, then, with a quick little dart, she bent her head and kissed, as lightly as a butterfly might, the back of Fibo's right hand.
"That is my 'thank you' to the hand that did it!" she said.
Freda's gaze had wandered away from the sketches to the flowers.
"What lovely flowers you have! It looks like an enchanted garden. We have no flowers like these. Does Dreamikins pick them when she comes to stay with you?
"Yes; she knows all their histories, and which of them the fairies love best."
"Ah," said Daffy, with her cooing little laugh, "you believe in fairies! So do Freda and me, since we saw 'Peter Pan' in London, and I used to before when I was quite a baby. Nurse doesn't. She doesn't believe in any of the nice things, only in doses of medicines, and punishment, and bringing us up like 'little ladies' and 'good Christians.' I hate ladies and Freda hates good Christians, so Nurse and we argify about them."