“And a pretty sweetheart,” said the third; “who loves him,” said the fourth.
And so they went on, foretelling for him all sorts of happy and desirable things. And as each fairy gave her gift she stooped and kissed the baby Prince, and then spreading her fine gossamer-gauze wings, fluttered away across the rosy garden. The crowd of fairies grew less and less, and there were only three left when the Queen pulled the King’s sleeve and whispered, “My dear, where’s Malevola?”
“I sent her a card,” said the King, casting an anxious look round him.
“Then it must have been lost on the way,” said the Queen, “or she’d have been here——”
“She _is_ here,” said a low voice in the Queen’s ear. Suddenly the room grew dark, grey clouds hid the sun, and all the daisies on the floor shut up quite close. The poor Queen gave a start and a scream, and the King, brave as he was, turned pale, for Malevola was a terrible fairy, and the dress she wore was not at all the thing for a christening. It was made of spiders’ webs matted together, dark and dank with the damp of the tomb and the dust of dungeons. Her wings were the wings of a great bat; spiders and newts crawled round her neck; a serpent coiled about her waist and little snakes twisted and writhed in her straight black hair.
She looked at the Queen so terribly that her poor Mother-Majesty cried out without meaning to.
“Oh don’t!” she cried, and flung both arms round the cradle. The Prince was quite happy, playing with his new coral and bells, and looking at the Palace cat, who sat at the foot of the cradle washing herself.
“Now listen,” said Malevola, still speaking in the low, even voice that was so terrible. “You did not invite me to the christening. I’ve read my fairy tales, and I know what’s expected of a fairy who is left out on an occasion like this. I intend to curse your son.”
Then all the Kings and Queens who had come to the christening wished they had stayed away, and they and all the Court fell on their knees and begged Malevola for mercy. As for the three good fairies who were left, they hid behind the window-curtains, and the Court ladies, peeping between their fingers, said—
“Fancy deserting their godson like this! How unfairy-like!”