“I’m not Spirea, I’m Speedwell,” replied the fairy, “but it’s of no consequence. Is your godmother likely to want you within the next hour or so?”
“No,” said Philomène, “she has driven off to pay a call, and won’t be back till nearly supper-time.”
“That is really very fortunate,” said Speedwell, “because it would have been a pity for you to miss this chance. There is an old merman in a little creek about half a mile from here, and if you come with me quickly, I will introduce you to him.”
For a moment Philomène’s heart seemed to stand still with the very joy and marvel of the thing, but the next she had begun to run, and the elf half ran, half flew, by her side. The beach was of yellow sand, hard and smooth, stretching for mile upon mile along the coast; the tide was coming in, blue fringed with white by the shore, but a vague, sad purple farther out to sea. The little creek was soon reached, and as the sea ran up into it, smooth and shallow, Philomène took off her shoes and stockings, and began to paddle; and there, sure enough in the shelter of a projecting rock, screened from the steady August sunshine, and with his tail in the water, sat the old merman, gazing out to sea.
“This is Philomène,” said Speedwell, and turning round, she half ran, half flew, back across the sands, as fast as glistening wings and little green shoes could carry her.
Philomène sat down on a low boulder, her feet dangling in the warm caressing water, her wide eyes fixed upon the merman. She had neither the breath nor the courage to start a conversation. The merman raised his head and tossed back his sea-green hair from his sea-green eyes; then passing his fingers through the matted locks, where tiny shells hung tangled, he turned upon Philomène a rugged, weather-beaten face.
“I am glad to see you,” he said in a deep, musical voice, “the fairies seem to be your very good friends.”
“I should be very much obliged if you would tell me about the sea,” suggested Philomène timidly.
The merman laughed a deep, musical laugh. “That would indeed be a long story,” said he, “it is as if some one were to say to you, ‘Tell me about the land.’ So you love the sea, do you?”