"Of that I have no doubt," said Peter. "Good-night, my child." Many things passed through Ysenda's mind as she walked slowly home. She had no mother, and her father, though devoted to her, his only child, was a hard man. He thought her fanciful and romantic, as she had on several occasions refused to marry to please him. For his great idea was that her husband should be a wealthy man. "He must at least show on his side as handsome a sum as will be the dowry I give you," he had often repeated. But so far, none of the suitors that in this respect were approved of by the father had found favour in his daughter's eyes, so that he began to think the girl had determined against marrying at all, little suspecting the love that had already crept into her sweet heart. "Ah, well," he thought to himself, "better live single than make a poor choice of some pauper who would squander her fortune, though for that matter, unless I look to it, she will be for giving it all away in charity once the breath's out of my body. Ysenda is too 'giving' by half." And with this idea, rich though he was, the father kept the girl but slenderly supplied with money. She had to account to him for every farthing, and only by denying herself many little things she had naturally a right to expect, was she able to help her poorer neighbours. And without old Peter's contributions, though in cash he had not much to give, still less would it have been possible for her to assist those in need. "How I shall miss him!" she said to herself. "For some reasons I could wish he had bequeathed the magic table to me--to what advantage I could have used it! But it would not have been fair or right. Oh if only Michael wins it! Somehow----" and vague hopes began to flutter in her heart, for that the young fellow--no less than the others, in their own way--adored her, she could not doubt. "It might make things different," she thought. But then she resolutely put the idea away. "No, no, I must not dwell on it. It is almost as if I were looking forward to dear old Peter's death. And oh, by the bye, I must not forget to go to see old Martha Swann to-morrow. I wonder what new trouble has befallen her--trouble mingled with joy, he said, and of course _I_ know, as no one else knows, that Peter is in touch with the good people; the really good fairies, they must be, for he would have no dealings with mischievous, spiteful imps." Now I must tell you what happened the next day--the eventful Sunday on which the old man felt that the time had come for his strange secret to be revealed to his three godsons. They were there in good time as usual, waiting outside for the opening of the door and their host's appearing.