In a few minutes there was a sound of voices in the garden, and the rustle of soft gowns above her head. It was plain that Lionel Grandison, his sister Lucretia, and their cousin, Rosamond Earlscourt, had entered the arbor. A little light talk there was, then Lionel's rich, pleasant voice took up the Fairy tale:
"The days and the weeks flew by as if on wings of the wind, a soft, sweet wind! No pleasure was wanting in Fairy Town. There was no work, no worry, no rain, no cold, no great heat. The flowers gave food to the child the same as to the bees and the birds. She sipped the clover-like syrup of sweet-pea blossoms, tasted and liked the bitter-sweet of the pond-lily, loved the orris flavor of mignonette which she drank from the cup of the fairy-bell. She drew in the nectar of honeysuckle, and tasted the Paradise flavor of the rose. A syrup that seemed as if from the Garden of Eden was made from spicy pinks, white violets, and valley-lilies, mixed with morning dew.
"After feasting until she was tired there came four white doves, harnessed to a light, silvery carriage, made of snowball flowers. Light as air the child flew into the sweet, soft carriage, and was borne along above the flowers and bushes, but the doves did not fly too high, for fear of alarming the merry child.
"When the soft twilight of Fairy Town came gently down, there appeared a bed made of the feathers of the swan, so pure and white, the child feared to lie down upon it. But the Fairy playfully tossed her on the downy bed, then smiled to see how lovely it all appeared to the little one that nestled down, and was all ready for rest after the delights of Fairy Town.
"But the days passed on and on, and lo! who could believe it? The child grew tired,—tired of the sweetness, the rest, the dove-drives, the do-nothing, care-nothing ease of Fairy Town!
"At first she could not believe so strange a thing was possible, and feared lest she was only stupid and ungrateful. But, alas! the downy, flowery, too easy life became more and more tiresome until, in trouble and distress, she went to the Fairy with a look in her eyes that the wise Fairy understood. Yet she asked kindly:
"'What is it, dear?'
"'Ah, good Fairy, I fear that I am but a naughty, naughty child.'
"'Have you done wrong?' asked the Fairy.
"'No, I have meant to do nothing wrong, good Fairy.'