, glided towards them across the waters. The fair
voyagers were clad in robes of misty blue with white mantles about
their waists, and on their heads wreaths of valley-lilies.

They were all as fair as need be; but fairest of all was the
helms-woman, the queen of the fairies. Her face was soft and clear
like moonlight; and she wore a crown of nine large diamonds, which
refracted the evening rays, and formed nine lunar rainbows.

The fairies were singing a roundelay; and, as the melody floated over
the waters, Victor and Blanche listened with throbbing hearts. Fairy
music has almost passed away from the earth; but those who hear it are
strangely moved, and have dreams of beautiful things which have been,
and may be again.

"It makes me think of the days of long ago when there was no sin,"
whispered Blanche.

"It makes me long to be a hero," answered Victor with a sparkling eye.

All the while the pearly boat was drifting toward the youth and
maiden; and, when it had touched the shore, the queen stepped out upon
the land as lightly as if she had been made entirely of dewdrops.

"I am Fontana," said she; "and is this Blanche?"

She laid her soft hand upon the maiden's shoulder; and Blanche thought
she would like to die then and there, so full was she of joy.

"I have heard of thy good heart, my maiden: now what would please thee
most?" said the queen.

Blanche bowed her head, and dared not speak.

Queen Fontana smiled: when she smiled it was as if a soft cloud had
slid away from the moon, revealing a beautiful light.

"Say pearls and diamonds," said Victor in her ear.

"I don't know," whispered Blanche: "they are not the best things."

"No," said the queen kindly: "pearls and diamonds are _not_ the best
things."

Then Blanche knew that her whisper had been overheard, and she hid her
face in her hands for shame. But the queen only smiled down on her,
and, without speaking, dropped into the ground a little seed. Right at
the feet of Blanche, it fell; and, in a moment, two green leaves shot
upward, and between them a spotless lily, which hung its head with
modest grace.

Victor gazed at the perfect flower in wonder, and, before he knew it,
said aloud, "Ah, how like Blanche!"

The queen herself broke it from the stem, and gave it to the maiden,
saying,--

"Take it! it is my choicest gift. Till it fades (which will never be),
love will be thine; and, in time to come, it will have power to open
the stronges