They were just going to begin, and everybody was as happy as happy
could be, when, all of a sudden, there was a clashing of brazen claws
and a rushing of wings, and something like a black cloud seemed to
pass before the tall windows and darken all the room, so that the
guests could hardly see their plates. Then the great doors burst open
with a terrible bang, and an old fairy in a long trailing black gown,
with her face almost hidden in a black hood, jumped out of a black
chariot drawn by fierce griffins, and stalked up to the table.
The King turned pale, and the Queen nearly fainted away, for this
was the spiteful fairy Tormentilla, who lived all alone, an immense
distance away from everywhere and everyone, in a dismal black stone
castle in the middle of a desert. The poor Queen had been so happy and
so busy that she had forgotten all about her, and never sent her an
invitation.
However, they all tried to make the best of it, and another chair was
brought, and another place laid for Tormentilla; and both the King and
Queen told her over and over again how very, very sorry they were not
to have asked her.
It was all in vain. Nothing could please her; she would eat and
drink nothing, and she sat, scowling and looking angrily at the other
fairies' jeweled cups and dishes, until the feast was over, and it was
time to give the presents.
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