"That's delightful," said the Fairy Queen. "I'm so glad you like my frock," she went on. "Paris, of course. That is to say, the idea came from there. My own people did the actual making. After all, no one can touch the French when it comes to real chic. Don't you think so?"
I acquiesced. Oh, yes, Paris was certainly the best.
"But I didn't come here to discuss clothes," said my visitor. She made a quick movement and leaned suddenly forward on the cushion, her delicate golden head supported on her slender hand. "Do you know the Editor of Punch?" she asked abruptly.
I hesitated. "I can't exactly say that I know him," I said.
The Fairy Queen looked very disappointed.
"Oh, dear, then I'm afraid it's no good. I thought you'd be sure to know him."
"But although I don't know him personally I am in communication with him," I said. "Perhaps—"
She brightened up a little.
"I suppose you could write," she said; "though of course it would be far better to see him."
"It's about that cover," she went on. I looked at her blankly.