“They’ll be delighted, my dears. For they really don’t begin to live until some one finds the way to them through the gates. They are all remarkable little girls, too, in their different ways, and I know you’ll enjoy playing with them. So suppose we start. Since you can’t see me, each of you must take hold of one of my hands. Do you want to choose where to go first, or shall I choose for you?” “You choose,” said the two girls, stretching out their hands. They could hear the fire snapping as they did so, and the wind in the chimney seemed to be calling to them. And they felt a slim, strong little hand clasp theirs, and the clear voice said: “We might just as well begin in the Golden Age. Have you heard of Sappho, the Greek girl who wrote wonderful poems after she grew up? She was a very sweet and merry child, and I know you’ll enjoy playing with her. So shut your eyes, shut your eyes, shut ... your ... eyes....” The fairy’s voice trailed away into silence as Rose and Ruth obeyed her. The two girls had a queer sensation, as though everything they knew was flying past them ... a sort of whirr ... then a kind of tiny shock, as if they had suddenly stopped falling, and then.... CHAPTER II THE WINNER OF THE TORCH RACE “Open your eyes,” cried that clear, laughing voice. And Rose and Ruth obeyed, opening them very wide indeed. Opening their mouths too, just as one always does when so full of surprise that one cannot hold a bit more. “I’ll bring you home in good time,” went on the fairy, just as though nothing in the least extraordinary had happened. “Just amuse yourselves as you like. Sappho will be along presently and I’m sure you’ll get on nicely together. And now I’ve other affairs to see to, so I’ll say good-bye for the present.” “Good-bye,” returned the two girls, though when the fairy stopped talking it was hard to believe she was there to say anything to, because we are none of us used to answering a voice with nothing around it. And still they stared, and the wonder in them grew bigger and bigger.