The greatest crowd was of course round the beautiful flower in which the Princess Orchid lived, and Hedgeflower and his cousin found it quite difficult to get near the Princess without crushing their wings. They were obliged to walk so slowly that Hedgeflower had plenty of time to look about him. He saw numbers of his cousins the rose-fairies, and tall lily-fairies, and fern-fairies dressed all in green. The pansy-fairies were there too, with their sad little faces and their splendid purple-and-gold dresses. Quite close to him there was a fuchsia-fairy, dressed in a stiff white petticoat with a pointed overskirt of scarlet; and standing beside her were several fairies whose crimson tunics were so fine that Hedgeflower asked who they were.

"They are the young Prince Begonias," said Madame La France. "The Princess, being a foreigner herself, has a great many foreign friends. The Begonias think a good deal of themselves, but I think myself that our own family has more reason to be proud. But come, we can speak to the Princess now."

Princess Orchid was standing on a drooping petal of the beautiful flower in which she lived. Her long robes of mauve and white swept over the flower as if they were themselves petals. Her hair was golden, and her face was the loveliest that Hedgeflower had ever seen. She smiled at him very graciously when he was introduced to her, and after he had seen that smile he took no interest in anything else that was going on. He never glanced again at any of the fairies who had seemed to him so splendid a short time before: he just sat down in a nice shady clump of ferns and watched Princess Orchid. He had been to a great many parties in his own hedge where the wild-roses grew, but he had never seen a fairy or even a butterfly receive her guests with so much sweetness and graciousness. He sat there for a long time and wished it could be for ever. Then he remembered that perhaps he would never see Princess Orchid again, and that made him sad.

A fairy party is never dull. Fairies are full of fun and enjoy everything very much. There was a great deal of talking and laughing and sipping of dew flavoured with sunshine, which is the drink fairies like instead of tea. The fairies of the Canterbury Bells had brought their music too, and gave a great deal of pleasure. It seemed as if the party were going to be a great success, when unfortunately a disaster happened which was talked about for many a day afterwards.

SHE SMILED AT HIM VERY GRACIOUSLY WHEN HE WAS INTRODUCED TO HER

On the roof of the glass house, just above the Princess's head, there was a large spider who was very busy spinning his web. He was so busy that he did not look where he was going, and when people forget to look where they are going it is a very common thing for accidents to happen. The spider came lower and lower, spinning all the time, while Princess Orchid was talking very kindly to a shy little violet-fairy and was not noticing anything else. Lower and lower, nearer and nearer, came the spider.

Suddenly a shrill little voice was heard to cry out—

"Take care, Princess, take care!" and Hedgeflower, flying from his clump of ferns, flung himself against the great spider. He was too late. Flop! The spider fell with all his weight upon the flower in which the Princess lived!

No flower could bear the weight of such a monster, and to the horror of all the fairies the beautiful mauve orchid trembled and drooped, and then slowly fell to pieces, petal by petal. The Princess spread her dainty wings and flew safely to the ground. Then she turned and looked sadly at the ruin of her home. It lay bruised and crushed and shapeless on the earth, and if once a fairy's flower-home falls to pieces it can never be put together again.

There was a great commotion in the glass house. All the fairies flew about in a fuss, chattering angrily and trying to find the spider who had done the mischief. But he had quickly climbed up the rope that he had been spinning, and was hiding behind a leaf, so he was never found.

Now, it is a very uncommon thing to find a fairy who is not kind and anxious to help other people, so all the Princess's guests crowded round her and begged her to come and stay with them. The fuchsia-fairies declared they knew of the loveliest little fuchsia-bud which was in want of some one to take care of it: it would really be a charity if the Princess would live there. Prince Begonia objected to this, because, he said, a fuchsia-bud was not a fit place for the Princess to live in; the right home for her was in one of his magnificent palaces. The lily-fairies cried out that this was all nonsense, because any one could see that the Princess would feel more at home in a white flower than in a red one, after living so long in the pale orchid.

While all this talking was going on the Princess did not seem to be paying very much attention to it, though of course she bowed and smiled and thanked the fairies very prettily, as was only right. She looked round several times, as if she wanted some one who was not there. At last she said—

"Where is the little fairy with the kind face, who tried to save my home?"

Several fairies pushed Hedgeflower forward. He felt and looked very shy.

The Princess smiled at him, and then she held out her hand.

"I will go with you," she said, "and be a wild-rose-fairy."

Hedgeflower dropped on one knee before her.

"My home is in a common hedge," he said, "and there are thorns round it. But there is no glass between me and the open sky. I think, Princess, that a fairy should be always under the open sky and the sunshine."

"That," said the Princess, "is exactly what I think myself."

So Hedgeflower and the Princess spread their wings and took each other's hands and flew away out of the window of the glass house, and across the garden and over the hedge. They flew on and on, across field after field, till they came to the hedge with the wild roses.

There the Princess Orchid made her home, among the honeysuckles and the meadowsweet. She was no longer a princess with sweeping robes, but a quiet little wild-rose-fairy in a pink-and-white frock. But there was no glass between her and the sunshine.

THE CLOUD THAT HAD NO LINING

THERE was once a cloud that had no lining. You have often, I dare say, heard grown-up people say that every cloud has a silver lining, and so you will understand that a cloud without a lining is a very uncommon thing.

The fairies who lived in the cloud found it very uncomfortable, because, you see, it let the rain come through.

"If only our cloud had a lining," they said, "the rain would not come through, and that would be very nice for us."

"We must really have it lined," said one.

"What with?" asked another.

"Why, with silver, of course," said a third. "Every one knows that a cloud ought to be lined with silver."

"But we have no silver!"

"Then we must get some. It is ridiculous to go on living in this state of dampness. Other fairies have comfortable clouds over their heads, and why should we be always drenched? And all for want of a simple silver lining!"

"Where does one find silver?" asked one of the fairies.

"There are a good many kinds of silver," said a fairy who had been about the world a great deal. "There is the kind that is dug out of the