Their majesties of Fairyland came to Bim’s garden, and there were enthroned, a brilliant escort of knights grouped behind them.
"June," said the King, so clearly that every elf could hear him, "a year has passed since your act of disobedience. Against our wishes, and despite our will, you went to fulfil the impossible. You came to where the cloud of evil--that ominous pall--hung over London, and proclaimed the weakness of Fairyland!"
These words sounded so like a rebuke that June was fearful. She bowed her head, opened wings, and knelt mutely before her monarch. Oberon smiled.
"You have done well, June! You have accomplished the impossible. You have taught us never to despair. For the first time in history a fairy has disobeyed a King’s command and done right. Elves!" he cried to the company, "the hour of the crowning has nearly come. Who shall the honoured fairy be?"
There was a moment’s silence. Then, as a chord of music, far-flung, unanimous, the answer came:
The fortunate fairy, chosen, was still kneeling. Her great happiness humbled her. Her wings quivered. She was enduring an ordeal. Titania raised her, kissed her, brought to her confidence. Then, hand in hand, June linking the King and Queen, they flew westward. The host of fairies followed in a long line of golden light, cheerily singing. A comet would be a mere firework in comparison with their splendour.
As they made progress over the town, Oberon and Titania saw the fruits of June’s efforts. The great Metropolis shone beautiful beneath them. There was no ugliness, want, or unkindness in London that night. Streets and houses were full of inspiring brightness and noble delight.
As they passed, half circling, St. Paul’s Churchyard, a nightingale was singing.
A great army of gnomes hurried along the roads, following the way of the procession. They were not going to miss the crowning--no, not they! Policemen on duty were only half aware of the bustlement proceeding.
The crowning was to be celebrated in St. James’s Park. A choir of birds were already singing the opening anthem as Oberon and Titania, still hand in hand with June, descended to thrones in the greenness.
Again there was high revel in Fairyland--revel heartier, happier than ever before. No wilderness was now left unlighted by elf-kindness. Every brick and fragment of London town, as every grass-blade and flower in the green country, was under the acknowledged dominion of the fairy King. The elves had come to their own again.