“I could!” answered Ravenslee almost grimly, “and I—­surely will!”

“When we get there, Prince, I want first—­a doll-carriage an’ a doll with lovely blue eyes that wink at you, an’ a big box of candy, an’ a new dress for my mumsey, an’ no more work, an’ I want lots an’ lots of flowers for my daddy ‘cause he loves flowers—­oh, an’ I want my leg t’ be made well.  What d’ you want, Hermy?”

“Well, dear, I want to—­say good-by to my sewing-machine for ever and ever and ever!”

“Why, Hermy!” exclaimed the child, “last time you said you wanted some one who could give you your heart’s desire!”

“Perhaps that is my heart’s desire, little Hazel,” said Hermione, rising and taking up the medicine bottle.

“An’ what do you want, Prince?”

“I want a great deal,” answered Ravenslee, smiling down into the big, soft eyes.  “I want some one who—­is my heart’s desire now and for ever and ever.  Good night, dear little Princess!”

“You’ll come again, Prince?” she pleaded, holding up her face to be kissed, “you’ll come again soon?”

“As soon as—­Princess Nobody will bring me.”

“Good night, Hermy dear; you’ll bring our Prince again soon?”

“If you wish, dear,” said Hermione, stooping to kiss her in turn.

“Why, Hermy—­what makes your cheeks so hot to-night?”

“Are they?” said Hermione, making pretence to test them with the back of her hand.

“Why, yes,” nodded the child, “an’ they look so red an’—­”

“Of course you believe in fairies, don’t you, Princess?” enquired Ravenslee rather hurriedly.

“Oh, yes, Prince, I often see them in my dreams.  They just wait till I’m asleep, an’ then they come an’ show themselves.  Do you ever see any?”

“Well, your highness, I fancy I have lately, and when fairies are around, things are sure to happen; wishes get the habit of coming true.  So, little Princess, just go on wishing and dreaming and—­watch out!”

Then Ravenslee turned and followed Hermione out upon the dingy landing; but as he climbed the stair, there went with him the memory of a little face, very thin and pale, but radiant and all aglow with rapturous hope.  Silently as they had come they mounted the stairs, until, reaching the topmost landing, they paused as by mutual consent.

“Poor little Hazel!” said Hermione very gently, “if only there were real fairies to spirit her away to where the air is sweet and pure and flowers grow for little hands to gather—­the doctor told me it was her only chance.”

“Why, then of course she must have her chance!” said Ravenslee with a sleepy nod.

“But, Mr. Geoffrey—­how?”

“Well—­er—­the fairies—­you said something about fairies spiriting—­”

“The fairies!” said Hermione a little bitterly, “I guess they are too busy over their own affairs to trouble about a poor, little, sick child; besides, what fairy could possibly live five minutes in—­Mulligan’s?”