"Well," proceeded Helen, "there came a day w'en Almira had nothink to h'eat,--never a bite. She wandered about h'all day, but try as she would, she couldn't crib so much as an apple from an old apple-woman; 'er luck was h'all gone dead agen 'er. She went walkin' h'up and down, and when night came, she was that spent, she sat down on a door-step and began to cry; and while she was crying another little gal, dressed in white, wearin' a neat little hat----" "With daisies on it?" interrupted Robin. "Yes, trimmed h'awful fine wid daisies. She came h'up, and she gave little Almira a whole threepenny bit." Helen said these words calmly, and Robin opened his great eyes wide at the magnitude of the gift. "When Almira got the money, she stopped cryin' and stared at the pretty little gal; and the little gal said-- "'Poor Almira; come and buy a bun.' And she took 'er 'and, and they bought a real fat bun for a penny, and the little girl gave Almira back the twopence in change. Then the little gal said again, 'You're tired, poor Almira, come and sleep;' and she led 'er h'out--right h'out of the big city into a green, green field, and they lay down side by side on the soft grass, and the stars came h'out h'in the sky h'over 'ead. And Almira never slept so sound in 'er life. In the morning the little gal said, 'Almira, you shall 'ave a beautiful white frock like mine,' and she dressed little Almira h'all in white like herself, only Almira had no flowers; but Almira wanted the flowers, and she began to cry. Then the little gal was sorry, and she took little Almira a long walk through a wood, and at the other side of the wood was a field h'all studded h'over with real livin' daisies as thick as peas, and little Almira sat down and began to make daisy-chains, just like the picture there." Here Helen paused. Having come to the point where the illustration on the wall could be used, she brought her narrative to an abrupt conclusion; having, indeed, nothing further to say. Robin gave a deep sigh of satisfaction, but he had a question to ask. "'Ow did that 'ere little gal in white know Almira's name?" he demanded. "Oh! she warn't a real little gal; she was a fairy-gal." "And does fairies know h'everythink?" "Lor' bless yer, Robin; you, nor the learnest man livin' couldn't beat a fairy for knowingness." "Well, 'tis real pretty," answered Robin, "and I'd like to meet a fairy as 'ud give me things." Helen was silent for a few moments, then she said in an abrupt tone-- "Would yer like to see somethink as 'ud--somethink more beautifuller than the fairy h'ever gave to Almira?" "Oh yes, yes, mother." "And yer'el never tell about it to nobody?" "Never." "Then come to the winder." The sun had by this time gone down, and it was by the light of a bright moon under the tiny skylight that Helen showed to Robin a brilliant and most valuable diamond ring. The child gave an exclamation of surprise and delight, as he gazed at the sparkling treasure.