love and tenderness which went to Curdie's heart.
Now and then, with a great fan of peacock feathers,
she would fan him very softly. If a cloud seemed
to gather over his face she would bend over and
whisper in his ear. Then the king would sleep again
quietly.

Curdie came a little nearer and called her softly.
In a few moments she came to him where he stood
under the silver lamp. Then he told her all his story
--how her fairy grandmother had sent her white
pigeon for him--how she burned his hands in the
fire of roses to make them able to tell whether people
were good or bad--how she had sent him there that
he might help the king and his little princess--and,
lastly, of the state of things he had found downstairs
in her palace.

"You frighten me dreadfully!" said Irene,
trembling. "What is to be done? How am I to
believe such horrible things of Doctor Kelman?"

"Either you must believe it of him," said Curdie,
"or you must doubt your fairy grandmother. For it
is by the gift she gave me in my hands that I know
that he is a snake. Do you not see he is doing wrong
to your father? Is not the king sleeping better since
he had the wine?"

"Yes," said Irene.

"Does he always sleep better after having it?"

She thought a moment and then answered, "No,
always worse--till to-night!"

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