"Don’t be so sure of that," said the voice. "Why do you keep this curl of hair? Why do you turn so persistently away from me? Why don’t you look at me?" Marjory turned her head, but she could see no one near. "Who are you? Why do you hide?" she asked in turn. "You look too high," said the voice. "Look lower; yes--ah, how d’you do?" Marjory almost jumped into the river in her fright, for there, standing under the shade of a big dandelion, was the smallest being she had ever seen in her life. Yet, as she sat staring at her, this tiny woman seemed to increase in size, and to assume a shape which was somehow familiar to her. "You know me now?" asked the little woman, smiling at her again. "N--o," replied Marjory, stammering a little. "Oh, yes, you do. You remember the old woman whose part you took a few weeks ago--down by the old church, when some boys were teasing her? Well, that was me--me--and now I’m going to do something for you. I am going to make you happy." "Are you a witch?" asked Marjory, in a very awed voice. "Hu--sh--sh! We never use such an uncomplimentary word in _our_ world. But you poor mortals are often very rude, even without knowing it. I am not what is called a witch, young lady. I am a familiar." Marjory’s eyes opened wider than ever; she bent forward and asked an earnest question: "Are you my familiar?" she said. "Perhaps, perhaps," answered the little woman, nodding her head wisely. "That all depends on yourself. If you are good, yes; if you are bad, no--most emphatically, no. I am much too important a person to be familiar to worthless people." "I’m sure you are very kind," said Marjory meekly. "But what will you do to make me happy? You cannot give me back my Jack, because he has married some one else--the wretch!" she added under her breath, but the ejaculation was for the woman whom Jack had married, not for Jack himself. "You will learn to live without your Jack, as you call him," said the little woman with the soft voice, sagely, "and to feel thankful that he chose elsewhere. You once did me a service, and that is a thing that a familiar never, never forgets. I have been watching you ever since that time, and now I will reward you. Marjory Drummond, from this time henceforth everything shall prosper with you; everything you touch shall turn to gold, everything you wish shall come to pass; what you strive after you shall have; your greatest desires shall be realised; and you shall have power to draw tears from all eyes whenever you choose. This last I give you in compensation for the tears that you have shed this day. Farewell!" "Stay!" cried Marjory. "Won’t you even tell me your name? May I not thank you?" "No. The thanks are mine," said the little lady. "When we meet again I will tell you my name--not before."