ed forward
with a very grand manner. He went straight to the gayest and largest
group he could see. It was a group of gentlemen fairies, who were
crowding around a lily of the valley, on the bent stem of which a tiny
lady fairy was sitting, airily swaying herself to and fro, and laughing
and chatting with all her admirers at once.

She seemed to be enjoying herself immensely; indeed, it was disgracefully
plain that she was having a great deal of fun. One gentleman fairy was
fanning her, one was holding her programme, one had her bouquet, another
her little scent bottle, and those who had nothing to hold for her were
scowling furiously at the rest. It was evident that she was very popular,
and that she did not object to it at all; in fact, the way her eyes
sparkled and danced was distinctly reprehensible.

[Illustration: ALMOST IMMEDIATELY THEY FOUND THEMSELVES IN A BEAUTIFUL
LITTLE DELL.]

"You have engaged to dance the next waltz with every one of us!" said one
of her adorers. "How are you going to do it?"

"Did I engage to dance with all of you?" she said, giving her lily stem
the sauciest little swing, which set all the bells ringing. "Well, I am
not going to dance it with all."

"Not with _me_?" the admirer with the fan whispered in her ear.

She gave him the most delightful little look, just to make him believe
she wanted to dance with him but really couldn't. Robin Goodfelllow saw
her. And then she smiled sweetly upon all the rest, every one of them.
Robin Goodfellow saw that, too.

"I am going to sit here and look at you, and let you talk to me," she
said. "I do so enjoy brilliant conversation."

All the gentlemen fairies were so much elated by this that they began to
brighten up, and settle their ruffs, and fall into graceful attitudes,
and think of sparkling things to say; because every one of them knew,
from the glance of her eyes in his direction, that he was one whose
conversation was brilliant; every one knew there could be no mistake
about its being himself that she meant. The way she looked just proved
it. Altogether it was more than Robin Goodfellow could stand, for it was
Gauzita who was deporting herself in this unaccountable manner, swinging
on lily stems, and "going on," so to speak, with several parties at once,
in a way to chill the blood of any proper young lady fairy--who hadn't
any partner at all. It was Gauzita herself.

He made his way into the very centre of the group.

"Gauzita!"