"Such a queer jumble of letters," she said to herself, still amused over the name, that, if it really was a name, Sally could not have pronounced. They still grouped themselves in her mind.
"Put them on paper," said her Fairy.
"I will," cried the merry maid, and with a pin she pricked the letters on a piece of paper. This she put in a box where she kept a few childish treasures, not any of them worth much.
Then came another great day that Sally knew all about. She had heard it talked of at the store, and the hired men had mentioned it.
The Belle Virgeen was coming up to the quay,—they called it "kee,"—and a gay company was to meet, and a fine supper to be served on the green at Ingleside, after the proud vessel arrived, bringing back her Fairy Prince.
Sally had made up her mind not to go over by the hedge when the supper should be spread. She would be near the quay as the ship came in, and perhaps would get a look at her Fairy Prince, but something held her back from trying to see or hear anything that night at Ingleside.
"I am twelve years old now," she said to herself.
A neatly clad child watched eagerly as the Belle Virgeen came slowly sailing in. Caps flew into the air, old straw ones going high aloft, and cries and cheers went up, as strong ropes made the vessel fast to the quay.
What! was that tall young man the Fairy Prince? He was tall when he went away, but now, at seventeen, he looked almost a man as he stepped ashore and was immediately seized upon by glad, loving hands.
Again the Lady Gabrielle was not in the throng. She would greet her boy in the retirement of home, but others from the Ingleside household were on hand to give welcome.