"They haven't any wings," I said, still rather doubtfully, "except this
one at the bottom."
But the Fairy Queen was very decided indeed. "All fairies don't have
wings," she said; "and with regard to that particular one at the
bottom," she glanced a little superciliously at the buxom lady with the
trumpet, "as a matter of fact, she isn't a fairy at all. I don't quite
know what she is, an angel perhaps, but not a fairy, certainly not
a fairy. But the others are, of course." She glanced at me a little
defiantly with her bright eyes. "Surely, my dear, I ought to know
a fairy when I see one. At the time when these were done they were
perfectly all right; they only want bringing up to date, like the
pictures inside, that's all. Now you will see whether you can do
anything, won't you?"
It was difficult to refuse, but I didn't feel very hopeful.
"I'll try," I said. "I'll write to the Editor; but I'm afraid it's not
very likely that he will do anything in the matter. You see the cover's
been like that for years and years. Almost ever since _Punch_ began.
It's--well, it's part of the _Punch_ tradition. We all love it. Nobody
would like to see it altered; it wouldn't seem the same thing."
The Fairy Queen was busy with her cloak and didn't pay much attention to
what I was saying,
"Won't you stay a little longer and have some tea or something?" I
begged.
She shook her head.
"A chocolate?"
She smiled. "I can't resist a chocolate," she said. She took a very
little one and nibbled at it daintily, flitting about the room meanwhile
and chattering away in the friendliest fashion in her tiny high voice.
"I must go," she said at last. "I have enjoyed it so much. May I come
again some day? I should love to come again."...
I went out with her into the little lobby and down the stairs, and stood
at the hall door to watch her go.
"Now don't forget," were her last words as she floated out into the
night. "Tell him, tell him exactly what we really look like."
"I can't," I called after her desperately; "I can't."
But she had already disappeared in the soft haze. I went slowly up the
stairs and back to my quiet room and the dying fire.
"I can't," I said again. "I only wish I could."