e
speech.

Also for the space of a moment the man seemed surprised and a trifle
embarrassed by this odd form of greeting. Nevertheless the next instant
he was staring at the girl in equal amazement. Then suddenly he held out
both his hands. "It is the 'Fairy of the Woods,' or I am dreaming!" he
exclaimed, closing and then opening his eyes again.

Polly at once dispelled all possible uncertainty. "If I am the 'Fairy of
the Woods,' then you are 'Grazioso' in 'The Castle of Youth,'" she
laughed, allowing her own hands to rest for the space of a second in
those of her former acquaintance. "But as I happen to remember your real
name, Mr. Hunt, and you cannot possibly recall mine, I am Polly
O'Neill."

"Then will you please sit down and tell me everything that has been
happening to you and how I chance to find you here in London with Miss
Adams?" Richard Hunt insisted, drawing up a chair to within a few feet
of his own.

Polly sat down. And quite unconsciously dropped her pointed chin into
the palm of her hand, murmuring with her elbow resting on the arm of her
chair:

"You remember that time when I met you in New York, we were both playing
in a fairy story," she said. "Well, sometimes fairy stories come true,"
she said.

Ten minutes afterwards when Miss Adams entered the drawing room to greet
her guest, to her surprise she found that he and Polly were already deep
in intimate conversation, so much so that they did not immediately hear
her approach. And Polly was ordinarily so diffident and tongue-tied with
strangers!

"I am glad that you and Mr. Hunt have not waited for me to introduce
you, Polly," Miss Adams began. Polly jumped to her feet, and her face
grew suddenly white. For she had never spoken of her escapade of two
years before to Miss Adams, and did not know just how the great lady
might receive it. Richard Hunt waited politely for the girl to
acknowledge her previous acquaintance with him. For if she did not wish
to speak he must, of course, by no word or sign betray her. However, in
less than a moment Polly had fought out a silent battle with herself.
There was no positive reason why she should confess her misdeed to this
woman whom she admired beyond all others. And yet to pretend a falsehood
to her friend, Polly could not endure the thought.

The girl made a charming picture as she stood there in her white dress
with her eyes cast down, not trusting herself to look into the face of
either of her frien