She could hear the sweet, excited voices of the Fairies, and could feel their wings fan the back of her neck as they followed her. But at that moment she caught sight of a low, flowery hedge, with a gateway made of two tall trees wreathed with blossoming vines, and through that gate she dashed, just as the Fairies behind her cried: “She has gone into the Palace Garden! She has gone into the Queen’s presence! How dare she!” Meg was in the loveliest place she had ever seen, but she was too frightened to think of its magical beauty just then. By the time the Fairy Folk came crowding into the Garden after her, she had espied a lady sitting on a throne, with giant roses all about, and Fairy Court-ladies standing in rows with folded wings. “Oh, are you the Queen?” she asked eagerly, running forward. “Yes,” said the beautiful lady. And all the Fairies stopped and stood motionless as she spoke. She had great shining wings that moved up and down, trembling like flower-petals, and her face gleamed with a wonderfully sunny smile; and sometimes she swayed a little, like a very tall lily in a high wind. And no one could say what colour her eyes were, nor what sort of features she had. But one knew at once that she was surely the Queen of the Fairy Folk. “Yes,” she said again. “I am the Queen. What is it that you wish of me?” “Oh, your Majesty!” cried the Fairies who had followed Meg; and they all bent low, and spread out their wings as she spoke—just the way a bird sometimes does, close to the ground, when it begins to rain,—“Oh, your Majesty! Do not listen to her! She is a friend of the Gray Dwarf and the Wicked King!” “Is that true?” asked the Queen, bending over Meg, and flashing her eyes at her until she felt as though she were looking deep into two huge stars. “No!” cried Meg, boldly. “It isn’t!” “Oh!” exclaimed the Fairies, angrily. “How truly wicked she is! And _how_ she lies! She _told_ us she was a friend of theirs!” “I said I _knew_ Grump,” said Meg, ready to cry. “I _never_ said he was my friend. He’s dreadful, and tried to kill me; and as for the Wicked King, I only saw him in some magic pot-steam!” “What is all this about?” asked the Queen, frowning slightly. “Come, little girl, tell your story; we will listen.” So Meg told her story from the time she met the Gray Dwarf. The Queen was much interested, and she thanked her for warning her about the Wicked King’s wish to steal her valuable spell. And the Fairies who had wanted to turn Meg into a rat or an oyster looked very much ashamed of themselves, and hung down their wings in a very humble manner. “But,” said the Queen, “how did it happen that you, a little mortal girl, were travelling through the Wonderful Wood alone, so very, very far from your own country?”