The Oriel Window by Mary Louisa Molesworth

That summer was a very, very lovely one. It scarcely rained, and when it did, it was generally in the night. If it is "an ill wind that brings nobody any good," on the other hand I suppose that few winds are so good that they bring nobody any harm, so possibly in some parts of the country people _may_ have suffered that year for want of water; but this was not the case at Evercombe, where there were plenty of most well-behaved springs, which -- or some of which at least -- had never been known to run dry.

So the little brooks danced along their way as happily as ever, enjoying the sunshine, and with no murmurs from the little fishes to sadden their pretty songs, no fears for themselves of their full bright life running short. Every living thing seemed bubbling over with content; the flowers and blossoms were as fresh in July as in May; never had the birds been quite so busy and merry; and as for the butterflies, there was no counting their number or variety. Some new kinds _must_ have come this year from butterflyland, Ferdy said to Christine one afternoon when he was lying out on his new couch on the lawn. Christine laughed, and so did Miss Lilly, and asked him to tell them where that country was, and Ferdy looked very wise and said it lay on the edge of fairyland, the fairies looked after it, that much he _did_ know, and some day perhaps he would find out more.