At the end of the performance the young mother, whom I knew very well, said to the little girl: “We are going to see Loie Fuller in her dressing-room.” [Illustration: THE DANCE OF FLOWERS _Photo_ _Müller_] A light was kindled in the child’s eyes, and she followed her mother, clutching at her hand nervously. If the little girl was so visibly affected it was not at the idea of seeing me, but of being in the presence of an extraordinary creature, a kind of fairy. The conclusion of this incident proves that. The mother and the child found their way to my dressing-room. An attendant opened the door. She asked them to be seated until I should be able to receive them. The keenest emotion was still imprinted on the child’s little features. She must have supposed that she was going to be taken into some celestial place. She looked round with restless eyes, surveying the bare walls, the uncarpeted floor, and seemed to be waiting to see the ceiling or the flooring open suddenly and permit an entrance into Loie Fuller’s kingdom. Suddenly a folding screen was drawn and a young woman came forward, who looked tired and in whose appearance there was nothing supernatural. With arms outstretched she advanced smiling. The child’s eyes opened wider and wider. The nearer I came the further she shrank away. Quite astonished her mother said: “What is the matter, dear? This is Miss Fuller, who danced for you so prettily a few minutes ago. You know you begged me so hard to bring you to see her.” As if touched by a magic wand the child’s expression changed. “No, no. That isn’t her. I don’t want to see her. This one here is a fat lady, and it was a fairy I saw dancing.” If there is one thing in the world of which I am incapable, it is consciously to cause anyone pain, and, with my love of children, I should never have been happy again if I had caused my little visitor to be disillusioned. I endeavoured therefore to be equal to the situation, and I said to the child: “Yes, my dear, you are right. I am not Loie Fuller. The fairy has sent me to tell you how much she loves you and how sorry she is not to be able to take you to her kingdom. She cannot come. She really cannot. She told me just to take you in my arms and give you a kiss, a good kiss for her.” At these words the little one threw herself into my arms. “Oh,” she said, “kiss the pretty fairy for me and ask her if I can come again to see her dance.” There were tears in my eyes as I replied: “Come as often as you like, my dear little girl. I hear the fairy whispering in my ear that she would like to dance for you all the time, all the time.” [Illustration: THE DANCE OF THE BUTTERFLY _Photo_ _Langfier_]