“I know where it was!” cried Teddy suddenly. “I remember now, for I saw a picture of it in one of papa’s magazines. That was a hospital, Ellen.”
“A hospital!” cried the little girl.
“Yes, a hospital.”
Ellen did not say anything for some time, but at last she drew another deep breath. “Well, if that’s a hospital I shouldn’t mind going to a place like that,” she said.
The rainbow had faded away, and Teddy was back in the great high-post bedstead again, with the silk coverlet drawn up over his knees, and the Counterpane Fairy still sitting on top of the hill. Teddy lay looking at her for a while in silence. “Mrs. Fairy, was that a true story like the others?” he asked her at last.
“How should I know?” asked the fairy. “Do I look as though I knew anything about rainbow children? You’d better ask Ellen McFinney; maybe she can tell you.”
“Well, I will,” said Teddy. “I mean to ask her just as soon as ever I’m well.”
He did not have to wait for that, however, for the very next day his mother told him that little Ellen had at last consented to be taken to the hospital, and that perhaps when he saw the little girl again she would be able to walk and run about almost like other children.
