“And that it had a fairy in it?”
“Well, yes, that would account for it, wouldn’t it? That would explain.”
“Then the fairy must have been dead,” she said sadly.
Yes, I had to own that it seemed like it.
“Did I kill the fairy, by sending it in the letter, do you think?”
“No, I don’t think you did, my dear,” I replied. “Fairies don’t die like
that; they die of shock.”
“What kind of shock?” she asked. “When I shock Auntie, she doesn’t die
of it.”
“_When people don’t believe in them_,” I said.
[Illustration: A monochrome, atmospheric illustration of a young girl in
a long dress walking through a meadow of flowers by a body of water at
dusk, with tall pine trees in the background.]