It was generally acknowledged in the town of Dolchester, that Miss Helen Stokes was a young woman very much inclined to imprudence and a certain impertinence.
She was a haughty woman, and known to be proud of spirit for her own accomplishments, which were not so great as she supposed, it was broadly agreed. She had a disagreeable nature; she was much too given to finding amusement in the behaviour of others, her manners were good but had a condescending feel, and she did not have the same pleasant and submissive nature of other young women. Her neighbours agreed that her mild skill with a needle and her only tolerable beauty were no compensation for these defects.
Miss Stokes thought that her only trouble was that she often times spoke before she had contemplated her words. This was a recent addition to her opinion of her self, and it was brought about only because she was now confined to a small gable in Dolchester House for a week; this situation was a direct result of her own incaution in guarding her tongue. She considered her appearance quite beautiful, with lovely white skin and a womanly figure surmounted by feminine features; she likewise was proud of her talents, and considered her needle-work the finest in Dolchester. She had expressed this to many of the young ladies of the town and many unwise comments had followed in the ensuing disputes, culminating in her confinement to the gable.
Helen was very distressed by her situation. The gable was an entirely unfriendly place; although there was a bed, a chair, and a table, and she would not lack for any comfort, the room was oppressing. The ceiling was much too high in some places and much to low in others. The window was small, and locked. The lamps were either too bright or too dim. The bed was not as comfortable as her own. The table was made inferior by the large amounts of fabric placed on it. In summation, she would rather have been any where else.
She was gazing out of the window at the moment, bemoaning her misfortune and thinking of the things she would have been doing if she had not spoken so rashly before. It was Saturday, and the afternoon was lovely; she would perhaps have been enjoying herself at the millinery, choosing a new bonnet. She might be walking in the park, or she might have been reading a book. But she was not; she was instead locked here in this room. She became overwhelmed with emotion and could not contain her tears. Soon she could not even see out of the window any longer, so great was her upset.
Very suddenly a voice came from beside her. It was quite a handsome voice, deep and rich, and it asked, “What troubles you so?”
Helen was shocked that any one could be in the room with her; she had already looked through every thing there and knew that no one had been in it besides her before. Likewise she had examined the door and the window and found both to be locked. But it was such a very calming voice that she was not afraid, and she turned to look at its owner, expecting to find perhaps a handsome knight in shining armour, or, if she was very fortunate indeed, a handsome tailor with a flashing needle. She saw instead the most unremarkable man. He was of a very small stature for a gentleman, almost exactly Helen’s own height, and his form and face were equally undistinguished. His eyes were a peculiar shade of green that contrived to be neither emerald-bright nor reminiscent of forests but instead managed only to convey the impression that green eyes were completely common, and his hair was long and bound in a tail and an unexceptional dull brown colour; perched on the top was a curious and ugly hat which covered his ears. In fact the only handsome thing about him at all was his voice.
This was a very surprising discovery to Helen, and she began to be frightened. However, the man removed his hat, and she saw from his ears, which were long and tufted, that he was a fairy, although she had never expected that a fairy would be so short or so common of appearance. She had always thought fairies to be beautiful, graceful creatures. She sighed.
“It is just this; I am to make seven dresses for Miss Burdett before this Saturday next, and there is no possibility of it being accomplished.”
The fairy considered her plight and commented that it was a heavy burden indeed, asking how she came by it.
So Helen informed him of the circumstances, which were chiefly these; that she had boasted of her ability with the needle; that Miss Burdett (the daughter of the gentleman, Mr Burdett of Dolchester House) had accused her of excessive pride; that a wager had been made between the two (Helen would sew seven of the most beautiful dresses imaginable, one each day of the week, or she would admit her folly and sew for Miss Burdett the entire year); that now Helen was locked in this room with her materials so that she could not cheat the terms; and that there was now no hope of victory in the wager for her.
The fairy considered his information while observing Helen with a keen eye. He addressed her with:
“Here is what I propose. I shall help you with this task, and bring you a dress of the most appealing nature each night; they will all be lovely enough for a duchess. And each night I will give you three guesses as to my name, and if you have not guessed it at the end of the week, you will be mine.”
Now Helen, who had heard of this sort of deal having been made between young ladies and fairy helpers before, was not surprised at the offer. She was somewhat unhappy with the named price, however, feeling it to be entirely irregular. A firstborn son would have been more appropriate; but she needed assistance from the fairy to win her wager and she did not dare to suggest a different agreement for fear of offending him. And so she agreed to the bargain despite that she should have known better; her pride was too great and outweighed her judgement.
It is commonly known that young ladies who get themselves into this sort of situation are always able to get themselves out of it at the last moment. The careless fairy is always found somehow, dancing or singing to his self how no one knows his name, by which means the young lady always finds out what it is. Helen was very familiar with this and considered herself to be in no danger at all.
She forgot to think about the fairy, and whether he might be familiar with it too.
On the first night the fairy brought a gown to her, and it was the loveliest creation she had ever seen, all over lace and ribbons. The fairy asked if she had guessed his name, and Helen made her three guesses, which were; John, James, and Henry. Each time the fairy said that it was not his name, and then he left.
This happened again the next night, and the next, until it was the last night of the week. By this time Helen was quite worried and fretted excessively to herself, for it had occurred to her that her case was quite different than that of the young ladies with which she was familiar. Each of those young ladies had been in such a situation through no fault of their own, and each had been released from the bargain through the aid of another person, who overheard the fairy singing by himself. She was made extremely conscious of her own folly, and for the first time thought that she might have tried harder to get along with the other young ladies in Dolchester; perhaps, she thought, if she had then there would be more of a possibility of one of them overhearing the fairy announcing his name and coming to tell her. She was just starting to weep when there was a rustle behind her and the fairy appeared again, with the last and most beautiful dress of the seven. After she had tried her best to appear cheerful, and had exclaimed most effusively over his creation, he asked if she had thought of his name yet.
Her tears started again at once, and she could almost not manage to ask, “Is your name Rumpelstiltskin?”
The fairy smiled hugely at this. “No, that is not my name. He is my second cousin, a fine fellow; I do not think that he was very wise, however. A good guess, though, much better than James or John.”
Helen sighed and sobbed. “Is your name Tom Tit Tot?”
“No, indeed. Another unwise fellow; I have never understood this curious laxness in protecting secret names that seems to afflict some fairies.”
In desperation Helen cried “Well, is your name Whuppity Stoorie, then?”
“My dear young lady, Whuppity was a female! Do you seek to insult me?”
“No, it is just that I have no idea what your name might be and I am so dreadfully upset! I had thought that I would be like the ladies in the stories, but no one has come to tell me that they have seen a fairy tailor singing in a lonely place. Indeed no one seems to suspect that you even exist! How can you be so different from the fairy-tale elves? What sort of fairy are you?”
“I am the sort of fairy not given to dancing about singing my secrets! Indeed it has always amazed me how careless some of my relatives are in this regard. Now here is the dress, you may give it to the gentleman’s daughter on the morrow. I shall return to collect you after.”
No amount of weeping would sway the fairy from his purpose, and presently she found that through some means he had quit the room without leaving through the door; she blinked and suddenly she could no longer see him. She was obliged to spend the final night on the small bed in the room, and in the morning she left to give the dress to Miss Burdett. Much exclaim was made when the gown was presented and Miss Burdett sighed over it, although it seemed she sighed quite as much for having lost the wager as for the beauty of the dress. Helen was seen to be more reserved than usual all through the day. Indeed some people wondered if the entire ordeal had not been too much for her spirit. There was general merriment in Dolchester, and much praise was made for Helen and her skill with the needle.
She graciously acknowledged it all, and strove at all times to keep someone with her. As the day progressed there were any number of young men, newly impressed with Miss Stokes and her fine sewing, happy to oblige her in this regard. She made a great search of Dolchester, for a way to save herself from her impending fate, however, all her efforts were in vain. An iron knife was discarded; she could not wound the fairy with a clear conscience. She could not find any rowan-berries; Dolchester suffered from an abominable privation of rowan-trees. For no tenable reason all the horseshoes were firmly attached to horses. It seemed that there was no where in Dolchester that she might find a suitable protection and ward against the fairy that would not kill him.
Just before the sun was to set, when the last of the young men could not be persuaded to stay with her longer and had taken his leave, the fairy quite suddenly came up beside her. He said no thing at all, nor did she; there was a silent understanding betwixt them. She took his arm, resigning herself to her unhappy future with a silent rebuke for her own stubborn soul; if only she had not had such insufferable pride! If only she were not given to speaking before she had considered her words!
The fairy made a strange gesture, and the gloaming seemed to envelope them. Helen felt herself pulled this way and that, and all the world became unstable; it appeared that all of a sudden the grass was the sky and she was falling forever up. The sun shivered and winked like a candle-flame, and quite abruptly it was extinguished as if some one had reached up two fingers and snuffed it out. The only stable thing in all this was the fairy; he did not seem to even notice the upset. Helen clung to him, lest she be lost in the magic swirling around them.
It was in this way that Helen Stokes first entered the Faerie Realm.