not possible for them, at least. They were too happy and too young. Surely visitors to fairyland could not make plans. They gave themselves up to the spell, and went where fancy led them. And it led them far, and through strange beauties, which seemed like dreams come true. They wandered down broad pathways, past green sward, waving palms, glowing masses of flowers, white balustrades bordering lagoons lightly ruffled by a moment's wind. Wonderful statues stood on silent guard, sometimes in groups, sometimes majestic colossal figures,
"They look as if they were all watching the thousands and thousands go by," said Robin.
"It seems as if they must be thinking something about it all," Meg answered. "It could not be that they could stand there, and look like that, and not know."
It was she who soon after built up for them the only scheme they made during those enchanted days. It could scarcely be called a plan of action, it was so much an outcome of imagination and part of a vision, but it was a great joy to them through every hour of their pilgrimage.
Standing upon a fairy bridge, looking over shining canals crossed by these fairy bridges again and again, the gold sun lighting snow-white columns, archways, towers and minarets, statues and rushing fountains,
