"I know one who has not," he answered, falling soothingly into her mood. "He has seen the Queen, Titania."
"Well, tell me about her. Oh, I do hope that she was beautiful," and she dimpled bewitchingly.
"She was—fairy queens are always beautiful, and sometimes kind. Once upon a time—all fairy-stories have happened once upon a time—there was a man."
"Yes," she interrupted, bending expectantly toward him.
"He was poor," he continued quietly.
"Oh," she exclaimed in disappointment.
Carter shook his head understandingly. "He was an artist. He hoped one day to be called a genius. The fairy queen knew this was not to be so she made him a king and gave him—part of her kingdom." He paused to find her looking down, a shade of sadness on her face. Noticing his pause she looked up.
"Well?" she asked.
"There was another man," he continued. "This other man was not poor. He was not an artist, but to-night he saw the fairy queen in all her regal splendor. It made him think that all the flowers in all the worlds condensed into one small but perfect bloom were not so sweet as she. So the other man more than ever wished to rule in her fairyland—with her."
"No, no," she cried, detecting the prohibited note, "you must not speak so." Her hands crumpled the morsel of cobweb and lace she had for handkerchief. Carried away with her proximity, however, he would not now be denied.