“I’m not going away,” said the fairy. “I shall be beside you still just as often as ever, only you won’t see me.” “But won’t there be any more stories?” cried Teddy, in dismay. “Sometime, perhaps,” said the Counterpane Fairy, “but not now, for to-morrow you’ll be out and playing with the other boys, and after that it will be your school and your games that you’ll be thinking of.” “Oh, Counterpane Fairy, don’t go!” cried Teddy again, reaching out his arms toward her; but they touched nothing but empty air. Waving her hand to him and still smiling, the Counterpane Fairy slowly, slowly faded away. With her too, faded the rosy light and the perfume that had filled the room; only the faint sound of music was left. Then it too died away. Teddy sat up and looked about him. The room was very still and dim. He heard nothing but the ticking of the clock. The half-moon had sailed up above the dark tops of the pine-trees on the lawn outside, and by its light he saw the great kite that papa had made him, as it stood propped up on the mantle. The gilt star in the middle of it shone. It was true that he was no longer a little sick child. To-morrow he would be out-of-doors again, and shouting and playing with all the other boys. THE END.