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WEDDING PRESENTS.

All day long I had been possessed by that odd feeling that comes over one unaccountably at times, as of things being a little strange, interesting—­ somehow different, so that I was not at all surprised to find the Fairy Queen waiting for me when I entered my flat.

It was a warm evening and she sat perched on the tassel of the blind, lightly swaying to and fro in the tiny breeze that came dancing softly over the house-tops.

I saw her at once—­one is always aware of the presence of the Fairy Queen.

I made my very best curtsey and she acknowledged it a little absent-mindedly.

“I want your advice this time,” she said.

I smiled and shook my head deprecatingly.

“But how ...?” I began.

“It’s about Margery and Max,” she continued.

I was much astonished.

“Margery and Max,” I echoed slowly.  “But surely there’s no need to trouble about them.  It’s a most delightful engagement.  They’re blissfully happy.  I saw Margery only yesterday ...”

“Oh, the engagement’s all right,” said the Queen.  “As a matter of fact it was I who really arranged that affair.  Of course they think they did it themselves—­people always do—­but it would never have come off without me.  No, the trouble is I don’t know what to give them for a wedding present.  You see I’m particularly fond of Margery; I’ve always taken a great interest in her, and I do want them to have something they’ll really like.  But it’s so difficult.  They have all the essential things already:  youth, health, good fortune, love of course; and I can’t go giving them motor-cars and grandfather clocks and unimportant things of that kind.  Now can I?”

I agreed.  As it happened I was in a somewhat similar predicament myself, though from rather different causes.

“Can’t you think of anything?” she asked a little petulantly, evidently annoyed at my inadequacy.  I shook my head.

“I can’t,” I said.  “But why not find out from them?  It’s often done.  You might ask Margery what Max would like and then sound him about her.”

The Queen brightened up.  “What a good idea!” she said.  “I’ll go at once.”  She’s very impulsive.

She was back again in half-an-hour, looking pleased and excited.  Her cheeks were like pink rose-leaves.

“It’s all right about Max,” she said breathlessly.  “Margery says the only thing he wants frightfully badly is a really smashing service.  He’s rather bothered about his.  So I shall order one for him at once.  I’m very pleased; it seems such a suitable thing for a wedding present.  People often give services, don’t they?  And now I’ll go and find Max.”  And she was off before I could utter a sound.

But this time when she returned it was evident that she had been less successful.