“Alas,” cried Zora, “I may fail to win Prince Reginald.”
“All the better,” chuckled the fairy. “When you become a snake, you and I shall enjoy each other’s society, I assure you.”
Zora shuddered.
“But it’s all one to me,” added the goblin, beginning to yawn. “On the whole, I think you may as well go home.”
Zora wrung her hands, and groaned.
“Yes,” said the gnome: “go back to the castle. Ugh! I would sooner trust one of my winking owls to do a daring deed than you! Fie upon you! Creep back to your bed, and let Hilda marry the prince: a lovely pair they will make. Off with you, for I have to make up my sleep I have lost.”
But Zora was thinking.
“I am silly indeed!” she said to herself. “Why do I fear that I shall not win the love of Prince Reginald? Only Hilda stands in my way.” Then she said aloud,—
“Lovely being! sweetest of all the race! Great as is my horror, I will consent to your will.”
Just then was heard a crackling in the dry leaves.