I your dearest wish will hear."

As Jeanette spoke the lines she held her wand above Dorothy's head.

"Song! Ah, let me always sing
For the peasant, or the king,
For the ones I hold most dear,
For all hearts that I may cheer,"

sang Dorothy, in her clear, light little treble, and very winning she
looked, as she extended her hand toward the fairy whom she implored to
grant her wish.

"Sing you shall, in tones so clear
That the very birds shall hear,
And, in envy, cease their lay
While your melody holds sway."

As Jeanette chanted the verse, she waved her wand, and Dorothy, entering
the circle beside her, sang a fairy song which delighted all who
listened.

The woman beside Uncle Harry seemed ill at ease, crumpling her
programme, and moving restlessly upon her seat as if the little play
bored her.

Uncle Harry stooped, and picked up the fan which had dropped from her
lap. She looked at him as if she thought that he had intended to steal
it, then, relenting, she screwed her thin lips into something like a
smile.