Agatha, 'there's no telling what they wouldn't do to us.'

'Still,' said Mary, 'you would be there, too, wouldn't you?'

'Neither of us will be there if some one doesn't go to bed at once!' cried Sister Agatha.

'Oh, isn't it to-night?' asked Mary.

'Not until to-morrow,' was the answer. 'Don't you know that nice things are generally to-morrow?'

Mary turned to look at Evangeline's wings once more before she left the room, and then Sister Agatha put her to bed. To-morrow was one of the most exciting days she had ever passed. For one thing she knew she was going to leave the room for the first time since she had entered it. She had no idea what she should see on the other side of the door, she could only wonder about it just as you may wonder what there is on the other side of the moon.

She sat up much later than usual, too, and she liked that; then she wore the new outdoor jacket over her dress, although Sister Agatha said she was not going out.

'But where are we going?' asked Mary.

'Well,' answered Sister Agatha, 'I think you will say it looks very much like fairy-land.'

'How shall I get there?' asked Mary.

'I am going to carry you, of course,' said Sister Agatha. 'All you have to do is to shut your eyes and keep very still and not to open them until I give you leave.'

Mary shut her eyes so tightly that her little face was full of wrinkles. 'Oh!' she exclaimed, opening them the next moment, 'will the prince be there? Shall I see him?'

'It wouldn't be anything without the prince,' said Sister Agatha, and then Mary shut her eyes again and knew that she was lifted in Sister Agatha's arms. Although she felt very curious to know where she was being carried to, she did not peep once, because she felt afraid of spoiling everything. Presently she knew that Sister Agatha had opened a door, and although her eyes were still tightly closed, Mary felt sure she was in a very light place, the darkness looked so red, you see.

'Please, mayn't I open my eyes now?' she cried.

But she could not hear Sister Agatha's answer, because there was such a loud noise in her ears. She must be close to a band, and a great many persons seemed to be laughing and talking at once. Mary was just thinking it was of no use; she must open her eyes just for a moment to see what was going on around her when she felt Sister Agatha's lips close to her ear.

'You won't be frightened,' she whispered, 'and you mustn't cry out or even speak. Now, open your eyes!'

But though Mary opened her eyes at once, it was some time before she could see anything clearly. It seemed exactly the same as last night, when she first saw Evangeline's wings. The bright light dazzled her, although it was not very long before she knew that she must be really in fairy-land, as Sister Agatha had said.

In front of her were a lot of men in light blue uniforms, with silver lace on their coats, playing all manner of curious instruments. Beyond the band and a little lower, Mary saw an enormous room with no carpet on the floor, and each fresh person astonished her more than the last. Some were dancing, some were sitting down, some were talking and laughing, but although there were so many of them, not one looked cross or sad, which was quite different from anything Mary had been used to.

Of course, she recognised some of the people at once, and she would certainly have called out their names if Sister Agatha had not placed a hand over her lips. She saw Bluebeard, and Jack-the-Giant-killer, Old Mother Hubbard, Aladdin with his lamp, her dear Cinderella, Puss-in-Boots, the White Cat, and ever so many more whose portraits she had seen in Sister Agatha's books upstairs. As to ordinary fairies, there were far too many to count—some tall, some short, some fat and some thin, some fair and some dark, but all with wings exactly like Evangeline's. And yet it was quite easy to pick out Evangeline Royal from the rest, and any one could see that she was their queen.

'Do tell me which is the prince?' asked Mary. 'Oh!' she said, in a very excited whisper the next instant, 'that must be the prince, that one in the white and gold clothes. Look, he's going to dance with Evangeline!'

Mary was quite right. The prince offered Evangeline his right hand and they came to the middle of the large room together. Then the band, which had stopped for a little while, began to play again, and the prince and Evangeline began to dance.

'How lovely the prince looks!' said Mary; 'does he always look like that?'

'Hus—s—sh!' said Sister Agatha, 'or they won't let us stay.'

'Oh, do please let us stay,' answered Mary in such a low whisper that Sister Agatha scarcely knew she had spoken at all. But if ever she stepped away from the band, which seemed to make a great noise close to Mary's ears, Mary began to look tearful, so, although she felt rather heavy and Sister Agatha's arms were beginning to ache, she let the child stay on, until presently she found that she was fast asleep. And the next thing Mary knew was that she was sitting on her own bed, whilst Sister Agatha took off her stockings, and all the wonders she had seen were at an end for the present.

VI

MARY IS TAKEN AWAY

Mary quite believed that she was living in an enchanted place where she would always be able to have everything she wanted, and even a great many things she did not want in the least. Where there would always be plenty of nice things to eat and drink, and Evangeline to tell her stories as nobody had done before.

She hoped she should never see Mrs. Coppert again as long as she lived, because Evangeline had said that she should not go away until her foot was well again, and although it was certainly better it was not quite well yet.

But there were times when Mary felt just a little afraid, for now and then she dreamed she was back at William Street, where everything seemed much worse than it used to be. And one morning the tall man with the long beard looked at her foot a great while, and when it was covered over again, he quite frightened Mary.

'It is very much better,' he said, 'and there is no reason why she should not try to walk. In fact, the sooner she goes away the better.'

'There now,' said Sister Agatha when he had gone, 'what do you think of that? Won't it be nice to walk again? You will like that, won't you?'

'No,' answered Mary; 'I shan't like it at all. I don't want to walk.'

'Oh yes, you will like it!' said Sister Agatha. 'Now suppose you try to walk across the room.'

Mary rose from her chair, and Sister Agatha held her hand while she limped along by her side. It felt odd to be walking again, and Sister Agatha suggested she should race with her doll. So the doll was placed in a corner, and then Sister Agatha turned the key, which was necessary, she said, because the doll could not eat as Mary did, and the race began. But although Mary seemed to walk much more slowly than the doll, who made a great fuss whenever it walked a few yards, she reached the door first. Sister Agatha clapped her hands, and gave Mary a prize; she gave her a lump of sugar.

But although Mary laughed about the race, she began to look miserable again when she remembered that the tall man had said she was to go away, for of all things in the world she did not wish to leave Evangeline and Sister Agatha. When Evangeline came to see her that afternoon, Mary clasped her small arms round her neck and clung to her, and cried, 'Please don't send me away! Pray don't send me back to Mrs. Coppert!'

'Why, my dear child,' said Evangeline; 'I am not going to send you back. I have never dreamed of such a thing.'

'But he said I was to go away,' answered Mary.

'So you are going away,' Evangeline explained; 'but not to William Street. Sister Agatha and I are going with you, and I think you will like it very much indeed.'

'I shall if you and Sister Agatha go,' said Mary, and now she