“You aren’t disturbing.  Come in and hear about the Fairy Godmother Society.”

“You don’t mean really?” Uncle Bob stood before the hearth and looked from his niece to the Candy Man.

“Indeed we do,” she answered.  “You see we have ten times as much money as we thought we had.  So why not?”

“Quite correct, as we thought we hadn’t any,” murmured the Candy Man.

Uncle Bob rubbed his hands in delight.  “I told Prue you’d do something of the sort; that you wouldn’t just settle down to be ordinary rich people.  But Prue says riches bring caution.”

Margaret Elizabeth, going to her desk for the address, laughed.  “We aren’t going to forget our humble beginning,” she said; “and we’ll act quickly before we are inured to our new estate.”

“But then, you know, there is another side to it,” her uncle interposed, in a sudden access of prudence.  “You must consider the matter carefully with an eye to the future.  For instance now, there may be heirs.”

A silence fell.  The fire crackled, and the clock ticked with unusual distinctness.  Then Margaret Elizabeth spoke.

“Here’s the address,” she said.  “I’ll put it in your pocket, where you can’t forget it.”  And as she tucked it in, she added, stoutly, with a lovely deepening of the colour in her cheek:  “If there are, Uncle Bob, they will be fairy god-brothers and sisters, so it will be all right.”

It was after the door had closed upon Uncle Bob, and Margaret Elizabeth was back on her low seat again, that the Candy Man left his chair and sat on the rug beside her.  “Girl of All Others, is there any one else in the world as happy as I?” he asked.

Margaret Elizabeth smiled at him with eyes that answered the question before she spoke.  Then she said, slipping her hand into his, “One other.”

THE END