And then the idea flashed back into Rose’s mind.
“Of course we aren’t! And oh, fairy, could you take us to see Alice in Wonderland?”
“I don’t see why not. But you must both be very nice little girls with Alice. None of your Jiminy Cripseys, Rose, and neither of you must jump up and down and scream or run wild races. Alice is the best mannered little girl beyond the Magic Gate.”
“We’ll be ever so good, fairy. Crikey, perhaps we’ll see the White Knight or the Walrus and the Carpenter.” Rose spoke as though the two latter were one.
“There you go,” warned the fairy, in a smiling kind of voice. “What do you suppose Alice would make of ‘Crikey’?”
Ruth laughed, and so did Rose after a moment. “I guess she’ll think I’m a sort of monster too,” she said. “But that’s the last. Cross my heart.”
“Well, off with us, then,” said the fairy. She took the children by the hand, while they shut their eyes tight. And then, with a drop and a jerk, she let them go.
They opened their eyes to find themselves in a large, square, comfortable room, with big easy chairs standing on either side of a fireplace, in which burned a bright coal fire. On the mantelpiece were a clock and two vases, under glass domes. Round the room were low bookcases well filled with books, there was a round table near the middle, and other chairs and furniture, a bright coal-scuttle and fire irons, and on a low table near the fire a tea-tray with tea and cakes and sandwiches. Standing on the rug before the fire was Alice, her hands behind her back, watching a black and a white kitten playing together.
But the minute the girls’ eyes fell on her she looked up with a delighted smile.
“I’m so glad you could come,” she said. “Please, tea is ready. Of course it’s mostly milk. Let’s have some right off, for I know I want it and I’m sure you do too.”