"Oh, how I wish we lived in those times, when there were fairy godmothers and things!" exclaimed Norah rapturously; then she added with a sigh—
"Aunt Leonora is my godmother, but she never gives me anything, and the godmothers in the fairy stories always give heaps of things."
"You can't expect great fat podges like that to be like fairy godmothers, you silly!"
"But she ought to like giving things. How nice it is to give presents and be thanked!"
"Yes; it's nice to give presents—when they are cheap. Perhaps," continued her brother in a wise voice,—"perhaps Aunt Leonora can't afford it if she isn't rich!"
"Cinderella's godmother never seemed to consider the price of anything. I wish—oh, how I wish——"
"Oh, how I wish you'd be quiet and help me with this sum. You remember your tables better than I do, but you needn't be jolly cocky about it all the same."
Norah wasn't listening to him. Her mind was far away from lessons. She was thinking, if she had her choice, what she would like to be, what she would like to do, and eat, and, above all, what she would like to wear. "If only I had a fairy godmother, I——"
"Rubbish!" exclaimed Wilfrid, growing cross, and frowning as he watched her moving restlessly about the room.
"I—of course, I wouldn't refuse her anything. Fairy godmothers generally appear at first disguised as old women, and ask for something, such as a drink of water, or beg you to carry a load of wood or whatever they happen to have in hand. So I should be ready to do anything and give anything, and earn my big reward."