bout the beautiful little house where Avrillia lived,
and Sara looked at it lovingly, for she had a sort of feeling
somewhere deep under her little apron that she would not see it again
for a long while. Pirlaps, who knew Avrillia pretty well, did not look
in the pink bed-room, or the kitchen, or the sitting-room; no, he went
straight to the balcony. And there sat Avrillia, in a mist of her
bright, wild hair, so intent upon her writing that she did not see
them, or hear them speak.

"Sh--sh--" said Pirlaps, in a low tone, when he saw how absorbed she
was. "We'll wait till she finishes that one. Why didn't I bring my
step?"

As he didn't have it, however, he leaned against the alabaster wall,
and waited patiently; though Sara, it must be confessed, was quite
restless. After what seemed to her a very long time, Avrillia drew a
deep breath and shook back her golden hair, and moving like a lost
bird to the balustrade, leaned far out and let her new poem flutter
from her hand. For another long time she did not move, straining her
eyes down into the abyss. At last she straightened up with a long sigh,
and, seeing them, smiled.

"Did it stick?" asked Pirlaps, eagerly.

"No," was all Avrillia said, but her voice made Sara's heart quiver,
for in the sound of it she seemed to hear the temple-bells, and the
fairy hand-organ she had heard in the steep street at Zinariola, and
the drowsy tinkle of the fountain in the Butterfly Palace, and the
little Laughs that leaped about the mountain, and the morning and
evening sheep-bells, all gathered together into one sound that seemed
to say that presently she would have to say good-by to Avrillia. But
Avrillia, seeing her suddenly sad little face, stooped and kissed her
as she had done that other morning, and patted her cheek, and said,
"Oh, but I have a present for you, Sara! This is your day--we must all
be very merry!" And with that she picked up something that was wrapped
in several layers of silver fog and tied with a ripple, and seizing
them both by the arm, went dancing with them down the path to the
Garden.

Everybody applauded when they saw Pirlaps and the guest of honor
returning with Avrillia; and the Teacup, unable longer to restrain her
excitement, fluttered down to the rim of the pool and cried excitedly,
"Now let's give the presents!"

Then something happened that came near turning the fete into a tragedy;
for the Teacup lost her balance in the excitement, and splashe