“Auntie,” she said, after a pause, “are there really fairies?”
“No, child, of course not. You know there aren’t.”
“Yes, I s’pose so. But if there were any, how big would they be?”
“Don’t ask silly questions, Dolly. There are no such beings as fairies.”
“Oh, I don’t know, Aunt Rachel,” put in Dick. “You know, just because we’ve never seen any,—that doesn’t prove there aren’t any.”
“But how big would they be, Dick?” persisted Dolly.
“Oh, little bits of things. A dozen of them could dance on a toad-stool, I expect.”
That settled it in Dolly’s mind. Of course Pinkie wasn’t a fairy then, for what Dick said was always so.
But Aunt Abbie changed the situation. She had more imagination than Aunt Rachel, and she idly fell into the discussion.
“I’m not sure of that, Dick,” she said. “I always imagine fairies to be about our own size. You know Cinderella’s fairy godmother was a grown-up lady.”