Lily-bud nodded. "Yes," she answered.
Peter was thinking faster than he had ever thought in his life. "But I haven't any right to," he said.
"Why?" asked Lily-bud; but she looked very much pleased.
"Because it doesn't belong to me," he answered, and at this Lily-bud was so happy that she flew right over to him and alighted on his scratched hand.
"You are growing wise, Peter," she said.
"I have a knife that Lawrence thinks is the best one he ever saw," said Peter, "and that is my own to give."
"Right-O," said Lily-bud. "Now who is the next person to think about?" she asked.
Peter's eyes met hers very brightly, and he saw her wings close and unclose in her eagerness. After a moment more of thought he waved the wand once again. "I wish we were with Rose-Petal," he said.
In less time than it takes to tell it, he and Pat found themselves under a large, spreading tree a little away from a roadside, and there, with her tiny hands clinging to the moss, was a lovely fairy who looked over her shoulder at Pat with frightened eyes.