Sylvia hesitated for an almost unnoticeable moment. Then she
said, "I haven't tried to find out, because I don't think she
wants me to know. At first, of course, in the matter of the
flowers and dress, I did try to solve the mystery; but, since
I received the book, I became convinced that it was my fairy
godmother who was doing it all, and I have respected her wish
for concealment and always shall. Perhaps some day she will
reveal herself to me. I hope so, at least."

"I wouldn't hope it," said the Old Lady discouragingly. "Fairy
godmothers--at least, in all the fairy tales I ever read--are
somewhat apt to be queer, crochety people, much more agreeable
when wrapped up in mystery than when met face to face."

"I'm convinced that mine is the very opposite, and that the
better I became acquainted with her, the more charming a
personage I should find her," said Sylvia gaily.

Mrs. Marshall came up at this juncture and entreated Miss Gray
to sing for them. Miss Gray consenting sweetly, the Old Lady
was left alone and was rather glad of it. She enjoyed her
conversation with Sylvia much more in thinking it over after
she got home than while it was taking place. When an Old Lady
has a guilty conscience, it is apt to make her nervous and
distract her thoughts from immediate pleasure. She wondered a
little uneasily if Sylvia really did suspect her. Then she
concluded that it was out of the question. Who would suspect a
mean, unsociable Old Lady, who had no friends, and who gave
only five cents to the Sewing Circle when everyone else gave
ten or fifteen, to be a fairy godmother, the donor of