"Are you good fairies who have strayed away from home?" inquired Tania, calmly gazing first at Madge and then at Eleanor. She was perfectly self-possessed and asked her question as though it were the most natural one in the world.

The two girls stared hard at the child. Was her mind affected, or was she playing a game with them? Tania seemed not in the least disturbed. "Do go away now," she urged. "I am all right, but something may happen to you."

"You odd little thing!" laughed Madge. "We are not fairies. We are girls and we are lost. We are on our way to visit a friend, Mrs. Curtis, who lives on Seventieth Street near Fifth Avenue. She will be dreadfully worried about us if we don't hurry on. But what can we do for you? We can't take you with us, yet you must not go back to that wicked woman."

"Oh, yes, I must," returned Tania cheerfully. "I am not afraid of her.

When the time comes I shall go away."

"But who will take care of you, baby?" asked Eleanor. "Fairies don't live in big cities like New York. They live only in beautiful green woods and fields."

The black head nodded wisely. "Good fairies are everywhere," she declared. "But I can make handfuls of pennies when I like," she continued boastfully. "Let me show you how you must go on your way."

"You can't possibly know, little girl," replied Madge gently. "It is so far from here."

However, it was Tania who finally saw the two lost houseboat girls on board the elevated train that would take them to within a few blocks of their destination. Tania explained that she knew almost all of New York, and particularly she liked to wander up and down Fifth Avenue to gaze at the beautiful palaces. She was not young, she was really dreadfully old--almost thirteen!

The last look Madge and Eleanor had of Tania the child had apparently forgotten all about them. She was gazing up in the air, above all the traffic and roar of New York, with a happy smile on her elfish face.

"My dear children, I wouldn't have had it happen for worlds!" was Mrs.

Curtis's first greeting as she came out from behind the rose-colored curtains of her drawing room. "Tom has been telephoning me frantically for the past hour. How did he and the girls miss you? You poor dears, you must be nearly tired to death after your unpleasant experience."

While Mrs. Curtis was talking she was leading her visitors up a beautiful carved oak staircase to the floor above. Her house was so handsomely furnished that Madge and Eleanor were startled at its luxurious appointments.

Mrs. Curtis brought her guests into a large sleeping room which opened into another bedroom which was for the use of Phil and Lillian.

Madeleine was to be married the next afternoon at four o 'clock. The girls had not brought their bridesmaids' dresses along with them, as Mrs.

Curtis had asked to be allowed to present them with their gowns.

It was all that Madge could do not to beg Mrs. Curtis to show them their frocks. She hoped that their hostess would offer to do so, but during the rest of the day their time was occupied in seeing Madeleine, her hundreds of beautiful wedding gifts, meeting Judge Hilliard all over again, and being introduced to Mrs. Curtis's other guests. The four girls went to bed at midnight, thinking of their bridesmaids' gowns, but without having had the chance even to inquire about them.

Mrs. Curtis belonged to the old and infinitely more aristocratic portion of New York society. She did not belong to the new smart set, which numbers nearer four thousand, and does so much to make society ridiculous. Madeleine had asked that she might be married very quietly.

She had never become used to the gay world of fashion after her strange and unhappy youth. It made the girls and their teacher smile to see what Mrs. Curtis considered a quiet wedding.

Miss Jenny Ann and her four charges had their coffee and rolls in Madge's room the next morning at about nine o'clock. Madge peeped out of the doorway, there were so many odd noises in the hall. The upstairs hall was a ma.s.s of beautiful evergreens. Men were hanging garlands of smilax on the bal.u.s.ters. The house was heavy with the scent of American Beauty roses. But there was no sign of Mrs. Curtis or of Madeleine or Tom, and still no mention of the bridesmaids' costumes for the girls.

Lillian Seldon was looking extremely forlorn. "Suppose Mrs. Curtis has forgotten our frocks!" she suggested tragically, as Madge came back with her report of the house's decorations. "She has had such an awful lot to attend to that she may not have remembered that she offered to give us our frocks. Won't it be dreadful if Madeleine has to be married without our being bridesmaids after all?"

"O Lillian! what a dreadful idea!" exclaimed Eleanor.

Even Phyllis looked sober and Miss Jenny Ann looked exceedingly uncomfortable.

"O, you geese! cheer up!" laughed Madge. "I know Mrs. Curtis would not disappoint us for worlds. Why, she has all our measures. She couldn't forget. Oh, dear, does my breakfast gown look all right? There is some one knocking at our door. It may be that Mrs. Curtis has sent up our frocks."

"Then open the door, for goodness' sake," begged Eleanor. "Your breakfast gown is lovely; only at home we called it a wrapper, but then you were not visiting on Fifth Avenue."

Madge made a saucy little face at Eleanor. Then she saw a group of persons standing just outside their bedroom door. A man-servant held four enormous white boxes in his arms; a maid was almost obscured by four other boxes equally large. Behind her servants stood Mrs. Curtis, smiling radiantly, while Tom was peeping over his mother's shoulder.

Madge clasped her hands fervently, breathing a quick sigh of relief. "Our bridesmaids' dresses! I'm too delighted for words."

"Were you thinking about them, dear?" apologized Mrs. Curtis. "I ought to have sent the frocks to you sooner, but I wanted to bring them myself, and this is the first moment I have had. You'll let Tom come in to see them, too, won't you?"

The man-servant departed, but Mrs. Curtis kept the maid to help her lift out the gowns from the billows of white tissue paper that enfolded them.

She lifted out one dress, Miss Jenny Ann another, and the maid the other two.

The girls were speechless with pleasure.

Mrs. Curtis, however, was disappointed. Perhaps the girls did not like the costumes. She had used her own taste without consulting them. Then she glanced at the little group and was rea.s.sured by their radiant faces.

"O you wonderful fairy G.o.dmother!" exclaimed Madge. "Cinderella's dress at the ball couldn't have been half so lovely!"

Madeleine's wedding was to be in white and green. The bridesmaids' frocks were of the palest green silk, covered with clouds of white chiffon.

About the bottom of the skirts were bands of pale green satin and the chiffon was caught here and there with embroidered wreaths of lilies of the valley. The hats were of white chip, ornamented with white and pale green plumes.

It was small wonder that four young girls, three of them poor, should have been awestruck at the thought of appearing in such gowns.

"I shall save mine for my own wedding dress!" exclaimed Eleanor.

"I shall make my debut in mine," insisted Lillian.

"We can't thank you enough," declared Phyllis, a little overcome by so much grandeur.

Tom was standing in a far corner of the room.

"I would like to suggest that I be allowed to come into this," he demanded firmly.

"You, Tom?" teased Madge. "You're merely the audience."

Tom took four small square boxes out of his pocket. "Don't you be too sure, Miss Madge Morton. My future brother-in-law, Judge Robert Hilliard, has commissioned me to present his gifts to his bridesmaids. Madge shall be the last person to see in these boxes, just for her unkind treatment of me."

"All right, Tom," agreed Madge; "I don't think I could stand anything more just at this instant."

Nevertheless Madge peeped over Phil's shoulder. Judge Hilliard had presented each one of the houseboat girls with an exquisite little pin, an enameled model of their houseboat, done in white and blue, the colors of the "Merry Maid."

The wedding was over. There were still a few guests in the dining room saying good-bye to Mrs. Curtis and Tom; but Madeleine and Judge Hilliard had gone. The four girls and Miss Jenny Ann found a resting place in the beautiful French music room.

Madeleine's wedding presents were in the library, just behind the music room.

"It was simply perfect, wasn't it, Miss Jenny Ann?" breathed Lillian, as they drew their chairs together for a talk.

"Madeleine must be perfectly happy," sighed Eleanor sentimentally. "Judge Hilliard is so good-looking."

"Oh, dear me!" broke in Madge, coming out of a brown study. She was sitting in a big carved French chair. "I don't see how Madeleine Curtis could have left her mother and this beautiful home for any man in the world. I am sure if I had such an own mother I should never leave her,"

finished the little captain.