Suddenly some one touched her arm, and she looked up to see a tall and handsome youth standing before her. It was none other than Ereol the fairy, who had assumed this form for her appearance among mortals; and over the youth’s arm lay folded the magic cloak that had been woven the evening before in the fairy circle of Burzee. “Are you very unhappy, my dear?” asked Ereol, in kindly tones. “I am the most unhappy person in all the world!” replied the girl, beginning to sob afresh. “Then,” said Ereol, “I will present you with this magic cloak, which has been woven by the fairies. And while you wear it you may have your first wish granted; and if you give it freely to any other mortal, that person may also have one wish granted. So use the cloak wisely, and guard it as a great treasure.” Saying this the fairy messenger spread the folds of the cloak and threw the brilliant-hued garment over the shoulders of the girl. [Illustration: “‘WHAT! PUNISH ME, YOU RASCALLY FELLOW! WE’LL SEE ABOUT THAT.’”] Just then Aunt Rivette led the donkey from the stable, and seeing the beautiful cloak which the child wore, she stopped short and demanded: “Where did you get that?” “This stranger gave it to me,” answered Meg, pointing to the youth. “Take it off! Take it off this minute and give it me—or I will whip you soundly!” cried the woman. “Stop!” said Ereol, sternly. “The cloak belongs to this child alone, and if you dare take it from her I will punish you severely.” “What! Punish me! Punish me, you rascally fellow! We’ll see about that.” “We will, indeed,” returned Ereol, more calmly. “The cloak is a gift from the fairies; and you dare not anger them, for your punishment would be swift and terrible.” Now no one feared to provoke the mysterious fairies more than Aunt Rivette; but she suspected the youth was not telling her the truth, so she rushed upon Ereol and struck at him with her upraised cane. But, to her amazement, the form of the youth vanished quickly into air, and then, indeed, she knew it was a fairy that had spoken to her. “You may keep your cloak,” she said to Margaret, with a little shiver of fear. “I would not touch it for the world!” The girl was very proud of her glittering garment, and when Bud was perched upon the donkey’s back and the old woman began trudging along the road to the city, Meg followed after with much lighter steps than before. Presently the sun rose over the horizon, and its splendid rays shone upon the cloak and made it glisten gorgeously. “Ah, me!” sighed the little girl, half aloud. “I wish I could be happy again!” Then her childish heart gave a bound of delight, and she laughed aloud and brushed from her eyes the last tear she was destined to shed for many a day. For, though she spoke thoughtlessly, the magic cloak quickly granted to its first wearer the fulfilment of her wish. Aunt Rivette turned upon her in surprise.