“Now how do you know what fairies can or cannot do, young lady?” It was the voice of Honeysqueak.
The girls whirled round from the window, through the panes of which they had been observing the steady downpour for the last half hour, for the voice came from behind them. But of course they saw nothing.
“You darling fairy! Did you get wet coming here?”
The fairy laughed. “Here you are one minute saying I can do anything, and the next wondering whether I got wet because it’s rainy outside. Of course I didn’t.”
“How can you help it?”
“The earliest lessons they give young fairies are in dodging raindrops. Why, there is more room between raindrops if you know where to find it, than there is between a rose and its fragrance.”
The girls laughed. “But that’s different,” they said.
“Maybe,” agreed the fairy. “Anyway, there’s no difficulty in keeping dry out in the rain if you can see as far as your nose and jump as far as your wing-spread.”
Neither Rose nor Ruth was quite sure she understood what the fairy meant, but they thought they ought not to ask too many questions, so they only said “Oh,” and wished they too had wings.
“If you aren’t too busy watching the rain to come with me,” continued the fairy, “I’d like to take you to see a little friend of mine, called Romola. She lives in Florence, and is rather a remarkable child.”