say; and it would not matter. Enough that, though invisible, they are lovely and beneficent, and that their influence--be it illusory or not--tends towards the betterment of human life. I am content to assert that I believe in these essences by results. The facts of the Lord Mayor’s feast were beyond ordinary comprehension, yet they actually occurred, and caused some hundreds of prosaic business men--as staid and reliable as any human beings can be--to make resolutions to be less selfish and more socially useful; and actually to keep those resolutions. I am sorry to bore you with such a long discourse, but it was necessary as the subject is so important. I believe in the fairies, and wish their governance was potent to-day." "So do I," said the enthusiastic Mrs. Thyme. June instantly forgave her past offences. "Bravo!" cried Lord Geoffrey again. "But do you know--I’m not referring to yourself, Mr. Archdeacon--do you know for a fact that they did keep them? Is that fruits of the imagination too? Eh? What?" The doubter was, as usual, the annoying Baronet. June looked at him, a tiny glint of anger in her eyes, and gave him twinges--the promise of gout. "Sir Claude, I do! Only to-day I had a visit from a Jew, a City tradesman, who had, throughout his long business life, sweated his people. This man--I need not mention his name--was a guest at the Lord Mayor’s banquet. He is now a model employer; tender-hearted, generous and scrupulous. He ascribes his wonderful change entirely to the influence of the fairies." The pause which followed these words was testimony to their effect. June began to dance again. She was as pleased as Punch with her protégé. The Archdeacon had turned up trumps. But the Duchess was not pleased. Her old friend Archdeacon Pryde was becoming dreadfully plebeian. To talk at her table about a kettle, and then about a Jew tradesman, was very like exceeding the social limit, so she gave the hostess’s signal, and the ladies withdrew; while June flew to the window and gained strength, inspiration and hope from the brightness of the skies and the young summer moon. *CHAPTER XIV* *CONVERTING A DUCHESS* The fairy found the cigar-smoke abominable; and as the conversation of the men, possibly because of the tobacco, lapsed towards dulness--it was mostly about guns and turnips--she flew out of the dining-room to the salon upstairs, to sit on the great piano and watch the Duchess and her feminine friends enjoying coffee and Chopin, while the more ardently idle of them babbled of nothings.