At that moment, there came a knock at the door and the neighbour walked in. She was a little old woman leaning on a stick and very much like the Fairy Berylune. The Children at once flung their arms around her neck and capered round her, shouting merrily: "It's the Fairy Berylune!" The neighbour, who was a little hard of hearing, paid no attention to their cries and said to Mummy Tyl: "I have come to ask for a bit of fire for my Christmas stew.... It's very chilly this morning.... Good-morning, children...." Meanwhile, Tyltyl had become a little thoughtful. No doubt, he was glad to see the old Fairy again; but what would she say when she heard that he had not the Blue Bird? He made up his mind like a man and went up to her boldly: "Fairy Berylune, I could not find the Blue Bird...." "What is he saying?" asked the neighbor, quite taken aback. Thereupon Mummy Tyl began to fret again: "Come, Tyltyl, don't you know Goody Berlingot?" "Why, yes, of course," said Tyltyl, looking the neighbor up and down. "It's the Fairy Berylune." "Bery ... what?" asked the neighbor. "Berylune," answered Tyltyl, calmly. "Berlingot," said the neighbor. "You mean Berlingot." Tyltyl was a little put out by her positive way of talking; and he answered: "Berylune or Berlingot, as you please, ma'am, but I know what I'm saying...." Daddy Tyl was beginning to have enough of it: "We must put a stop to this," he said. "I will give them a smack or two." "Don't," said the neighbor; "it's not worth while. It's only a little fit of dreaming; they must have been sleeping in the moonbeams.... My little girl, who is very ill, is often like that...." Mummy Tyl put aside her own anxiety for a moment and asked after the health of Neighbor Berlingot's little girl. "She's only so-so," said the neighbor, shaking her head. "She can't get up.... The doctor says it's her nerves.... I know what would cure her, for all that. She was asking me for it only this morning, for her Christmas present...." She hesitated a little, looked at Tyltyl with a sigh and added, in a disheartened tone: "What can I do? It's a fancy she has...." The others looked at one another in silence: they knew what the neighbor's words meant. Her little girl had long been saying that she would get well if Tyltyl would only give her his dove; but he was so fond of it that he refused to part with it.... "Well," said Mummy Tyl to her son, "won't you give your bird to that poor little thing? She has been dying to have it for ever so long!..." "My bird!" cried Tyltyl, slapping his forehead as though they had spoken of something quite out of the way. "My bird!" he repeated. "That's true, I was forgetting about him!... And the cage!... Mytyl, do you see the cage?... It's the one which Bread carried.... Yes, yes, it's the same one, there it is, there it is!" [Illustration: "It's the Blue Bird we were looking for! We have been miles and miles and miles and he was here all the time!"]