Thus the days passed, and Mary Alice was so happy that--learning from
Godmother some of her pretty ways--she would go closer to that dear
lady, every once in a while, and say: "Pinch me, please--and see if I'm
awake; if it's really true." And Godmother always pinched her,
gravely, and appeared to be much relieved when Mary Alice cried "Ouch!
I _am_!"

They didn't see anybody, except "from a distance" as they said, for
fully a week; they were so busy seeing sights and getting acquainted.
Every night when Godmother came to tuck Mary Alice in, they had the
dearest talks of all. And every night Mary Alice begged to be told the
Secret. But, "Oh, dear no! not yet!" Godmother would always say.

One night, however, she said: "Well, if I'm not almost forgetting to
tell you!"

Mary Alice jumped; that sounded like the Secret. But it
wasn't--although it was "leading up to it."

"Tell me what?" she cried, excitedly.

"Why, to-day I saw one of your fairies."

"My what?"

"Your fairies that you said were left out of your christening party."

"You did! Where?"