“Oh, no, no!”
“But you have. I asked God for that too, and I have been so good that I don’t see, Miss Eve, dear, how He could have said no.”
Eve laughed, soft, tender laughter that was on the edge of tears.
“So you are still making feasts for the fairies?”
“Yes, come and look. The water ought to be boiling. I’ve got your stove. It’s a lovely stove. Daddy and I make tea in it, and it’s splendid.”
Every thing was in readiness, the water on the boil, the fairy teapot waiting to be filled, the sugar and milk standing at attention. Eve and Lynette knelt down side by side. They were back in the Golden Age, where no one knew or thought too much, and where no one was greedy.
“And they drink the tea up every night?”
“Nearly every night. And they’re so fond of cheese biscuits.”
“I don’t see any biscuits!”
“No, daddy brings them in his pocket. He’ll be here any minute. Won’t it be a surprise!”