-cross the Styx. I had
gone a step further, and looking at her with an artistic eye, I had even
noticed that her eyelashes had considerably grown since the days when
Claude drew the eyes _a la_ Gabriel Max.

So far I did not seem to have hit on a good conversational opening. To
be sure, if Madeleine had been an English girl, I might have made a
remark about the weather and had a fair start; as it was I went on at
random and said--

"I am so glad you liked that book I sent you." (It was Grimm's "Fairy
Tales.") "You did like it, didn't you?"

"Oh yes, monsieur; so much I can't tell you."

"But do try to tell me. I so want to know why you liked it."

"Who could help liking it? It's all about the fairies and fairyland."

"Yes, mademoiselle, that is quite a wonderful world to peep into."

"It _is_ wonderful. It's _my_ world. Things happen there just as they
happen to me."

"Well, I hope it was only the good fairies you had to do with."

"I don't know that, but they protected me from the bad ones. And they
wouldn't let the dragon devour me, but nursed and cured me, and taught
me to pray to the Sainte Vierge."

Here her ologies were becoming somewhat mixed, for she had evidently not
attempted to settle in her mind what of gratitude to give unto Theos and
what unto Mythos.

"It was one of the good ones, I suppose, that taught you to read and
write?"

"Yes, that was Sister Louise whom you saw just now; she's as good a
fairy as ever was. Ah, monsieur, you can't understand it, you can't
realise what a wonderful thing it is to be able to read and write. You
learnt it when you were a child and _couldn't_ know; but I was quite a
big girl and had made my first communion when I began to learn those
wonderful signs that you can say everything with--everything you can
possibly think of--and that make it possible to read anything anybody in
the whole world ever thought of."

"Well, I am quite glad you told me. Now I can report to Monsieur Dupont
that you are both well and happy."

"That you can; and tell Monsieur Claude that I am grateful to him for
bringing me those three fairies. It was that morning, the second time
he came---- But I am talking too much," she said, interrupting herself
suddenly, "and that is rude. I hope you will excuse, monsieur."

"Excuse! Why, my dear child, I love to hear you talk about all that--I
am devoted to Fairyland myself; it is quite the artist's home, you know,
and I must tell you my expe