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But Violet could not speak. She hid her face in Anenome's white robe, and wept bitterly. "Dear sister Violet," said Anenome, winding her arms lovingly round the weeping fairy, "be comforted. This night we will go together and seek an audience of the Owl. Perhaps he will give us wiser counsel this time." "The Owl only mocks me," said Violet; "I will not ask counsel from him again."
Then all the fairies gathered round her and tried to comfort her. "Let us ask the owl that sits in the hollow oak," said the gentle Anenome, gliding to Violet's side; "he must be very wise, for he never smiles, and seldom speaks more than three words at a time."
Then Anenome was silent, for she knew not what else to advise, and only tried to show her pity by tender words and caresses. But Fairy Kingcup lifted up her bright face, and said, cheerily: "Why not try the Wizard of the Black Rock? He lives a long way off, but he is the wisest magician that ever lived; and if any one can help our sister Violet, it is he." Violet shook her head sorrowfully.
What a charm there is in an old-fashioned English garden! The great tall hollyhocks and phlox, the bright orange marigolds and large purple poppies. The beds and borders crammed with cloves and many-coloured asters, the sweet blue of the cornflower, and the little lobelias. Zinneas, too, of all colours; dahlias, tall stalks of anenome japonica, and such tangled masses of stocks!
But Violet was very happy; "I shall see fairy-land again; bright, beautiful fairy-land!" she sang softly to herself over and over. But when the frozen seas were past, and she was hovering once more above the land, the sun shone full upon her, the snow-wings melted away, and she fell helplessly to the ground. "Dear Violet, are you hurt?" asked the Fairy Anenome, by whose side she had fallen.
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