table was rearranged; the rose tree was left in its place of
honor; the lights were lit; there was the sound of music near at
hand; they were dancing in other chambers.

Above her hung a chandelier--a circle of innumerable little flames
and drops that looked like dew or diamonds. She thought it was the
sun come very close. After it had been there a little while it
grew very hot, and its rays hurt her.

"Can you not go a little farther away, O Sun?" she said to it. It
was flattered at being taken for the sun, but answered her: "I am
fixed in my place. Do you not understand astronomy?"

She did not know what astronomy was, so was silent, and the heat
hurt her. Still, she was in the place of honor: so she was happy.

People came and went; but nobody noticed her. They ate and drank,
they laughed and made love, and then went away to dance again, and
the music went on all night long, and all night long the heat of
the chandelier poured down on her.

"I am in the place of honor," she said to herself a thousand times
in each hour.

But the heat scorched her, and the fumes of the wines made her
faint. She thought of the sweet fresh air of the old garden where
the Banksiae were. The garden was quite near, but the windows were
closed, and there were the walls now between her and it. She was
in the place of honor. But she grew sick and waxed faint as the
burning rays of the artificial light shining above her seemed to