"Poor black dog!" said the little fairy as gravely as she could, and nothing more.
After that she went away; and the same night the dog disappeared.
Dame Dorothy sought for him high and low, called him by name, coaxingly, entreatingly; but all in vain. Then she sat down in her great armchair by her own fireside, and began to weep for her favourite.
Now it was a very comfortable chair, and the beech-logs in the wide grate sent out a nice warm glow, and it was the first time for months that the rightful possessor of the place could enjoy these in undisturbed tranquillity.
Dame Dorothy soon fell fast asleep. And then she had such funny dreams about white dogs, and black fairies, and school children, all clothed in little jackets cut out of her own best mantle, that she laughed aloud several times in her sleep, and indeed did not waken until the morning sun sent his beams in through the diamond panes of her window.
Many days Dame Dorothy searched for her black dog in every corner of the cottage, and under every bush in the garden, and all among her privet hedge, for she was sure he had lain down in some spot to die. But not the least trace of him did she discover.
And then she gathered up all her grief to pour it forth in one loud, intense lamentation the first time the bright little fairy should arrive.
"But oh, do not weep so, good Dame Dorothy," said the little lady. "When I return again, I shall fetch you another pet to keep you company all day long, and bring joy to your heart, and peace to your fireside!"
She kept faithful to her promise, the good little fairy; for the next time she came from the forest she brought with her a lovely white-breasted turtle-dove for Dame Dorothy.
The village children saw her on the road, and they all flocked in before her, crying, "Good-morrow, Dame Dorothy. Oh, you are going to get such a beautiful, beautiful bird!" Then the old lady smiled at the children, as she never had smiled for years and years.