She did not speak but nodded. "I'm Ned Langdale. My mother was at your party and brought us home a piece of your birthday cake. She said you were seven and as pretty as a fairy, and I'm fourteen, just twice as old." "Oh," she said, "that's funny. And will you always be twice as old." "Why--no. You can never be that but just once in your life--I mean with that special person. And when you were twenty I wouldn't like to be forty." "Is that so very old? Great-grandfather is ninety-seven." "Whew! That is old! But you see now I am seven years older than you and that is the way it will be all our lives. Do you go to school? There's a lady in Water Street who takes little girls, though she's only just begun." "No; but I can spell, and read, and do little sums. And read in French." "Oh, that's great! I'm studying Latin, but it's awful tough. Isn't it gay here? Can you dance?" "I never tried with music." "I can, just a little. Oh, say, it's splendid! If I knew just how I'd ask you to try it with me. It seems so easy when you look at them. It's so and so----" moving his hands. "Yes, do try. You whirl round----" And without any real intention they started. It was like floating. Yes, she had done it when she thought of the little people dancing on the green. "Oh," with a soft laugh of protest, and all out of breath. "It's--delicious! I didn't think I could do it for fair. I sometimes make believe. I'll get Norry to teach me." "Norry? Who?" "Why----" she flushed daintily. "That's grandad's wife." "Then she's your grandmother." "Oh, no, she isn't. You see the other wife died; she was father's mother and he married Norah. We all call her Norry." "She doesn't look old enough to be any one's grandmother. And isn't she gay? She has such a merry face, pretty too." "And she sings such gay songs. She knows all about the fairies, too, and she's seen them at home, that's Ireland. Why don't they come to America?" "Maybe the witches drive them away. Witches are just awful! Come; let us try again." He placed his arm around her and they whirled off to the fascinating music. Is there anything like a fiddle to put the spirit of delight in one's feet? Other couples were floating round or doing jigs with fancy steps and laughter. Now and then a bright, mirthful young lad ran off with some girl and left the first partner in the lurch, at which there was a shout. "Oh, I wish you were my sister! Wouldn't we have fun! I have only one brother, Archie, and he's stupid as an owl--well, I mean he hasn't any fun in him, and he'd dance about like a cow. Oh, there's your--well, it would be queer to call her grandmother." They both laughed at that. "I wondered where you were, Daffodil. Isn't this Ned Langdale? I know your mother. Dilly, I think I had better take you home. I promised your mother I wouldn't keep you very long." "Oh, no; let me stay just a little while. It's all so gay and they dance so--so--isn't it like a fairy ring?"