Mary Brown did not go to sleep very early that night, and as soon as she awoke the next morning, she began to ask questions. She wanted Sister Agatha to tell her at what time her fairy-godmother would come, and where she was coming from, and what she would be most likely to do when she arrived.

'And what is her name?' she cried.

'Her name is Evangeline Royal,' said Sister Agatha, 'and a very pretty name too.'

'I suppose she doesn't live anywhere?' said Mary.

'Not live anywhere!' cried Sister Agatha. 'Of course she lives somewhere. She lives here.'

'I thought fairies never seemed to live anywhere,' said Mary; 'and it does seem strange she should come to William Street.'

'Ah! well, perhaps, she was looking for you.'

'I should think she's everywhere at once,' said Mary.

'Dear me!' exclaimed Sister Agatha, 'what a funny child you are! Just now, you said she didn't live anywhere.'

'That's what I mean,' answered Mary; 'because if she's everywhere at once, how can she live anywhere, you know?'

Whilst Sister Agatha washed her and put on her dressing-gown, whilst the doctor was there, whilst she drank her beef-tea for luncheon and ate her chicken for dinner, Mary Brown thought of nothing but Evangeline Royal, wondering what she would look like, what she would say, and all the rest of it. And when she went to bed again after dinner as usual and fell asleep, she dreamed of Evangeline Royal still.

But it was a dreadful dream. She dreamed that her fairy-godmother came, and that she wore a veil, and that when she lifted it her face was large and red and shiny just like Mrs. Coppert's. Mary could not forget the dream, even when she was wrapped in the blanket again and sitting in the arm-chair. But she waited with her wondering eyes on the door, watching half afraid for Evangeline.

It had struck four when Sister Agatha went away, leaving Mary alone. She sat very still, staring at the door until presently it opened again, and Mary thought that now she should see Evangeline Royal at last. But it was only Sister Agatha who entered the room.

'She has come!' cried Sister Agatha. 'It won't be long before you see her now. As soon as she has taken off her hat.'

'Does she wear a hat?' asked Mary.

'Indeed, she wears the prettiest hats. She is not like me, you know. I go out in a plain little bonnet. But Evangeline wears the most wonderful hats.'

Sister Agatha had scarcely finished speaking before the door opened again, and Mary leaned forward eagerly in her chair. All her fears left her now, and she held out her arms; for she saw the most beautiful object her eyes had ever looked upon. Evangeline Royal was tall, much taller than Sister Agatha, and a few years younger. She crossed the room so softly that Mary could not hear her footsteps; her hair looked as if the sunshine had fallen upon it and never gone away again, and her eyes were as blue as the sky on the finest day! She came to Mary and took her hands just as if she knew her quite well, and Mary felt as if she had known Evangeline all her life.

'I'm so glad!' exclaimed Mary; 'I wanted to see you so much. I'm so glad you're young too; I'm glad about everything. And how pretty you are!'

'Mary wants to see your wings,' said Sister Agatha, as Evangeline stooped to kiss the child.

'Yes,' cried Mary, 'please do show them to me!'

'Well,' answered Evangeline, 'I'm afraid I cannot show them to you just now.'

'You will, some day!' Mary pleaded.

'Oh, I shall have such lots of things to show you,' said Evangeline.

'And you can tell me when I may walk again,' said Mary; 'because I really won't run away.'

'I fear I can't tell you that,' answered Evangeline a little sadly, and she stooped to kiss Mary again.

'Oh yes, you can!' cried Mary; 'because you can do anything. You brought me here, and I like being here—very much, ever so much! I never want to go away again. You won't let me go away again!' cried Mary.

'You can't go until you can walk, you see,' said Evangeline.

'Shall I be able to walk soon?'

'Ah! that is more than I can tell you, dear.'

'Oh, I hope not! I hope not!' exclaimed Mary.

'But surely you want to be able to walk again?' said Evangeline.

'Not if I have to go away,' Mary answered. 'I hope I shall never be able to walk again, then you will let me stay always.'

As soon as Evangeline left the room, Mary wanted to know when she should see her again, and Sister Agatha said not before to-morrow.

'Then I should like to go to bed now!' cried Mary.

'Why do you want to go so early?' asked Sister Agatha; 'you generally like to sit up as late as you can.'

'Because I want to-morrow to come soon,' said Mary, and she shut her eyes and tried to go to sleep as soon as her head touched the pillow in order to make to-morrow come sooner.

'You must remember that Evangeline has a great deal to do,' said Sister Agatha, as she dressed Mary the next morning. 'She has been away so long that now she has come home again a lot of people want to see her.'

'Who?' asked Mary.

'Oh, well, wherever there's a very beautiful fairy there is usually a prince not far off,' answered Sister Agatha. 'And some day he will come to take Evangeline away with him.'

'Not if she doesn't want to go,' cried Mary. 'I do hope she won't go. And of course she can do whatever she likes, can't she?'

'She can certainly do a great many things,' said Sister Agatha, when she had put Mary in the arm-chair and given her a cup of soup. 'And she can make other people do a great many things too.'

'How does she make people do things?' asked Mary.

'That depends what kind of people they are,' was the answer. 'There are some, like the prince, who would go to the end of the earth to please her if she only looked at them in a particular manner.'

'I wish he would go there if it's a long way off!' exclaimed Mary; 'because I don't want him to take her away. How does she make other people do things?' she asked.

'She gives them some of her magic counters, you know.'

'Magic counters!' cried Mary, opening her eyes more widely.

'Yes,' said Sister Agatha; 'I don't know whether you have ever seen a magic counter. But they're little round, flat things, very hard and bright yellow. And when she gives them to people they generally do whatever she tells them to do. Now, doesn't that seem very wonderful?'

'Very!' murmured Mary. 'But I shouldn't want her to give them to me. I should do what she told me when she looked at me, like the prince, you know. Is the prince pretty like Evangeline?' Mary asked.

As she spoke the door opened, and Evangeline entered the room.

'Why, you've got another dress on!' cried Mary. For this morning Evangeline was dressed all in white. There was not any colour about her dress, and this seemed to Mary quite as it ought to be, though she could not help thinking she should like to see the wings. 'Is the prince very lovely?' Mary cried, as Evangeline stooped to kiss her, and Sister Agatha laughed as she left the room.

'Yes, dear,' answered Evangeline, sitting on a low stool by Mary's side. 'My prince is beautiful and good and noble.'

'Then he must be everything at once,' said Mary.

'He is everything to me,' answered Evangeline quietly.

'Why do you look so red?' asked Mary, staring into her face.

'Do I look red?' said Evangeline.

'Very,' answered Mary, 'and now you're redder than ever. Sister Agatha,' Mary went on, 'says you can do everything you like, and I know you can, because you brought me here, you see.'

'Not quite everything,' said Evangeline.

'Sister Agatha says you have a lot of magic counters,' answered Mary. 'She says they're flat, round, yellow things that you give to people to make them do what you like.'

'Ah! well,' said Evangeline, 'they will make people do a good many things that would please you very much. Suppose we try!'

'Yes,' answered Mary, 'I should like that.'

'Then you shall tell me what you want,' said Evangeline, 'and we will see whether we can make it come. Now,' she exclaimed, 'what should you like to have first?'