Mother, may I have it crimped for the
party?"
"I don't know--we'll see. Now hurry and jump into bed."
After mother had kissed her good night and gone, and after the light
had been turned out, Missy lay awake for a long time.
Through the lace window curtains shone the moonlight, a gleaming
path along which Missy had often flown out to be a fairy. It is
quite easy to be a fairy. You lie perfectly still, your arms
stretched out like wings. Then you fix your eyes on the moonlight
and imagine you feel your wings stir. And the first thing you know
you feel yourself being wafted through the window, up through the
silver-tinged air. You touch the clouds with your magic wand, and
from them fall shimmering jewels.
Missy was fourteen, going on fifteen, but she could still play being
a fairy.
But to-night, though the fairy path stretched invitingly to her very
bed, she did not ride out upon it. She shut her eyes, though she
felt wide-awake. She shut her eyes so as to see better the pictures
that came before them.
With her eyes shut she could see herself quite plainly at the party.
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