CHAPTER V.
THE STORY OF A KING'S DAUGHTER.
'Gentle and sweet is she; As the heart of a rose is her heart, As soft and as fair and as sweet.'
_Liliput Lectures._
Godmother turned to the little strangers. The two pairs of blue eyeswere still fixed upon her. _Her_ eyes looked very kind and gentle, andyet very 'seeing', as she caught their gaze.
'I believe,' thought Maia, 'that she can tell all we are thinking;' andRollo had something of the same idea, yet neither of them felt the leastafraid of her.
'Rollo and Maia, dear children, too,' she said, 'we are so pleased tosee you.'
'And we are very pleased to be here,' said they; 'but----' and then theyhesitated.
'You are puzzled how it is I know your names, and all about you, areyou not?' she said, smiling. 'I puzzle most children at first; but isn'tit rather nice to be puzzled?'
This was a new idea. Thinking it over, they began to find there wassomething in it.
'I think it _is_,' both replied, smiling a little.
'If you knew all about everything, and could see through everything,there wouldn't be much interest left. Nothing to find out or to fancy.Oh, what a dull world!'
'Are we to find out or to fancy _you_?' asked Maia. She spoke seriously,but there was a little look of fun in her eyes which was at oncereflected in godmother's.
'Whichever you like,' she replied; 'but, first of all, you are to kissme.'
Rollo and Maia both kissed the soft white face. It was _so_ soft, andthere seemed a sort of fresh, sweet scent about godmother, as if she hadbeen in a room all filled with violets, only it was even nicer. Shesmiled, and from a little basket on her arm, which they had not noticed,she drew out several tiny bunches of spring flowers, tied with green andwhite ribbon--so pretty; oh, so very pretty!
'So you scented my flowers,' she said. 'No wonder; you have neverscented any quite like them before. They come from the other country.Here, dears, catch,' and she tossed them up in the air, all fourchildren jumping and darting about to see who would get most. But at theend, when they counted their treasures, it was quite right, each had gotthree.
'Oh, how sweet!' cried Maia. 'May we take them home with us, godmother?'It seemed to come quite naturally to call her that, and Maia did itwithout thinking.
'Certainly,' godmother replied; 'but remember this, don't throw themaway when they seem withered. They will not be really withered; that isto say, long afterwards, by putting them in the sunshine, theywill--some of them, any way--come out quite fresh again. And even whendried up they will have a delicious scent; indeed, the scent has anadded charm about it the older they are--so many think, and I agree withthem.'
Rollo and Maia looked at their flowers with a sort of awe.
'Then they are _fairy_ flowers?' they half whispered. 'You said theycame from the other country. Do you come from there too, godmother? Areyou a fairy?'
Godmother smiled.
'Fancy me one if you like,' she said. 'Fancy me whatever you like best,you will not be far wrong; but fairyland is only one little part of thatother country. You will find that out as you get older.'
'Shall we go there some day, then?' exclaimed Maia. 'Will you take us,dear godmother? Have Waldo and Silva ever been?'
'Oh, what a lot of questions all at once!' cried godmother. 'I can'tanswer so many. You must be content to find out some things foryourself, my little girl. The way to the other country for one. Shallyou go there some day? Yes, indeed, many and many a time, I hope.'
Maia clapped her hands with delight.
'Oh, how nice!' she said. 'And when? May we go to-day? Oh, Silva, do askgodmother to let us go to-day,' she exclaimed, catching hold of Silva inher eagerness. But Silva only smiled, and looked at godmother; andsomehow, when they smiled, the two faces--the young one with its brightrich colour, and the old one, white, so white, except for the wonderful,beautiful eyes, that it might have been made of snow--looked strangelyalike.
'Silva has learned to be patient,' said godmother, 'and so she gets toknow more and more of the other country. You must follow her example,little Maia. Don't be discouraged. How do you know that you are notalready on the way there? What do you think about it, my boy?' she wenton, turning to Rollo, who was standing a little behind them listening,but saying nothing.
Rollo looked up and smiled.
'I'd like to find the way myself,' he replied.
'That's right,' said godmother. And Maia felt more and more puzzled, asit seemed to her that Rollo understood the meaning of godmother's wordsbetter than she did.
'Rollo,' she exclaimed, half reproachfully.
Rollo turned to her with some surprise.
'You understand and I don't,' she said, with a little pout on her prettylips.
'No,' said Rollo, 'I don't. But I like to think of understanding someday.'
'That is right,' said godmother again. 'But this is dull talk for you,little people. What is it to be to-day, Silva? What is old godmother todo for you?'
Silva glanced out of the window.
'The day will soon be closing into evening,' she said,' and Rollo andMaia cannot stay after sunset. We have not very long, godmother--notime to go anywhere.'
'Ah, I don't know about that,' godmother replied. 'But still--the firstvisit. What would you like, then, my child?'
'Let us gather round the fire, for it is a little chilly,' said Silva,'and you, dear godmother, will tell us a story.'
Maia's eyes and Rollo's, too, brightened at this. Godmother had no needto ask if they would like it. She drew the large chair nearer thefireplace, and the four children clustered round her in silence waitingfor her to begin.
'It is too warm with my cloak on,' she said, and she raised her hand tounfasten it at the neck and loosen it a little. It did not entirely falloff; the dark green hood still made a shade round her silvery hair anddelicate face, but the cloak dropped away enough for Maia's sharp eyesto see that the dress underneath was of lovely crimson stuff, neithervelvet nor satin, but richer and softer than either. It glimmered in thelight of the fire with a sort of changing brilliance that was verytempting, and it almost seemed to Maia that she caught the sparkle ofdiamonds and other precious stones.
'May I stroke your pretty dress, godmother?' she said softly. Godmotherstarted; she did not seem to have noticed how much of the crimson wasseen, and for a moment Maia felt a little afraid. But then godmothersmiled again, and the child felt quite happy, and slipped her handinside the folds of the cloak till it reached the soft stuff beneath.
'Stroke it the right way,' said godmother.
'Oh, _how_ soft!' said Maia in delight. 'What _is_ it made of? It isn'tvelvet, or even plush. Godmother,' she went on, puckering her foreheadagain in perplexity, 'it almost feels like _feathers_. Are you perhaps a_bird_ as well as a fairy?'
At this godmother laughed. You never heard anything so pretty as herlaugh. It was something like--no, I could never tell you what it waslike--a very little like lots of tiny silver bells ringing, and softbreezes blowing, and larks trilling, all together and _very_ gently, andyet very clearly. The children could not help all laughing, too, to hearit.
'Call me whatever you like,' said godmother. 'A bird, or a fairy, or awill-o'-the-wisp, or even a witch. Many people have called me a witch,and I don't mind. Only, dears,' and here her pretty, sweet voice grewgrave, and even a little sad, 'never think of me except as loving youand wanting to make you happy and good. And never believe I have said ordone anything to turn you from doing right and helping others to do it.That is the only thing that could grieve me. And the world is full ofpeople who don't see things the right way, and blame others when it istheir own fault all the while. So sometimes you will find it all ratherdifficult. But don't forget.'
'No,' said Maia, 'we won't forget, even though we don't quiteunderstand. We will some day, won't we?'
'Yes, dears, that you will,' said godmother.
'And just now,' said Silva, 'it doesn't matter. We n
eedn't think aboutthe difficult world, dear godmother, while we're _here_--ever so faraway from it.'
'No, we need not,' said godmother, with what sounded almost like a sigh,if one could have believed that godmother _could_ sigh! If it were one,it was gone in an instant, and with her very prettiest and happiestsmile, godmother turned to the children.
'And now, dears,' she said, 'now for the story.'
The four figures drew still nearer, the four pair of eyes were fixed onthe sweet white face, into which, as she spoke, a little soft pinkcolour began to come. Whether it was from the reflection of the fire ornot, Maia could not decide, and godmother's clear voice went on.
'Once----'
'Once upon a time; do say "once upon a time,"' interrupted Silva.
'Well, well, once upon a time,' repeated godmother, 'though, by the by,how do you know I was _not_ going to say it? Well, then, once upon atime, a long ago once upon a time, there lived a king's daughter.'
'A princess,' interrupted another voice, Maia's this time. 'Why don'tyou say a princess, dear godmother?'
'Never mind,' replied godmother. 'I like better to call her a king'sdaughter.'
'And don't interrupt any more, please,' said Waldo and Rollo together,quite forgetting that they were actually interrupting themselves.
'And,' continued godmother, without noticing this last interruption,'she was very beautiful and very sweet and good, even though she hadeverything in the world that even a king's daughter could want. Do youlook surprised at my saying "even though," children? You need not; thereis nothing more difficult than to remain unselfish, which is justanother word for "sweet and good," if one never knows what it is to havea wish ungratified. But so it was with Aureole, for that was the name ofthe fair maiden. Though she had all her life been surrounded with luxuryand indulgence, though she had never known even a crumpled rose-leaf inher path, her heart still remained tender, and she felt for thesufferings of others whenever she knew of them, as if they were her own.
'"Who knows?" she would say softly to herself, "who knows but what someday sorrow may come to me, and then how glad I should be to findkindness and sympathy!"
'And when she thought thus there used to come a look in her eyes whichmade her old nurse, who loved her dearly, tremble and cross herself.
'"I have never seen that look," she would whisper, though not so thatAureole could hear it--"I have never seen that look save in the eyes ofthose who were born to sorrow."
'But time went on, and no sorrows of her own had as yet come to Aureole.She grew to be tall and slender, with golden fair curls about her face,which gave her a childlike, innocent look, as if she were younger thanher real age. And with her years her tenderness and sympathy forsuffering seemed to grow deeper and stronger. It was the sure way to herheart. In a glade not far from the castle she had a favourite bower,where early every morning she used to go to feed and tend her pets, ofwhich the best-loved was a delicate little fawn that she had found oneday in the forest, deserted by its companions, as it had hurt its footand could no longer keep pace with them. With difficulty Aureole and hernurse carried it home between them, and tended it till it grew wellagain and could once more run and spring as lightly as ever. And thenone morning Aureole, with tears in her eyes, led it back to the forestwhere she had found it.
'"Here, my fawn," she said, "you are free as air. I would not keep you acaptive. Hasten to your friends, my fawn, but do not forget Aureole, andif you are in trouble come to her to help you."
'But the fawn would not move. He rubbed himself softly against her, andlooked up in her face with eyes that almost spoke. She could not butunderstand what he meant to say.
'"I cannot leave you. Let me stay always beside you," was what he triedto express. So Aureole let him follow her home again, and from thatday he had always lived in her bower, and was never so happy as whengambolling about her. She had other pets too--numbers of birds ofvarious kinds, none of which she kept in cages, for all of them she hadin some way or other saved and protected, and, like the fawn, theyrefused to leave her. The sweetest, perhaps, were a pair of wood-pigeonswhich she had one day released from a fowler's snare, where they hadbecome entangled. It was the prettiest sight in the world to see Aureolein her bower every morning, the fawn rubbing his soft head against herwhite dress, and the wood-pigeons cooing to her, one perched on eachshoulder, while round her head fluttered a crowd of birds of differentkinds--all owing their life and happiness to her tender care. There wasa thrush, which she had found half-fledged and gasping for breath,fallen from the nest; a maimed swallow, who had been left behind by hiscompanions in the winter flight. And running about, though still lame ofone leg, a tame rabbit which she had rescued from a dog, and ever somany other innocent creatures, all with histories of the same kind, andeach vying with the other to express gratitude to their dear mistress asshe stood there with the sunshine peeping through the boughs andlighting up her sweet face and bright hair.
'It was the prettiest sight in the world to see Aureolein her bower every morning.']
'But summer and sunshine do not always last, and in time sorrow came toAureole as to others.
'Her mother had died when she was a little baby, and her father wasalready growing old. But he felt no anxiety about the future of his onlychild, for it had long been decided that she was to marry the next heirto his crown, the Prince Halbert, as by the laws of that country nowoman could reign. Aureole had not seen Halbert for many years, when, aschildren, they had played together; but she remembered him withaffection as a bright merry boy, and she looked forward without fear tobeing his wife.
'"Why should I not love him?" she said to herself. "I have never yetknown any one who was not kind and gentle, and Halbert will be stillmore so to me than any one else, for he will be my king and master."
'And when the day came for the Prince to return to see her again, shewaited for him quietly and without misgiving. And at first all seemed asshe had pictured it. Halbert was manly and handsome, he had an openexpression and winning manners, he was devoted to his gentle cousin. Sothe old King was delighted, and Aureole said to herself, "What have Idone to deserve such happiness? How can I ever sufficiently show mygratitude?"
'She was standing in her bower when she thought thus, surrounded asusual by her pets. Suddenly among the trees at some little distance sheheard a sound of footsteps, and at the same time a harsh voice, whichshe scarcely recognised, speaking roughly and sharply.
'"Out of my way, you cur," it said, and then came the sound of a blow,followed by a piteous whine.
'Aureole darted forward, and in another instant came upon Halbert, hisface dark and frowning, while a poor little dog lay bleeding at hisfeet.
'"Halbert!" exclaimed Aureole. Her cousin started; he had not heard hercome. "Did _you_ do this? Did _you_ strike the little dog?"
'Halbert turned towards her; he had reddened with shame, but he tried tolaugh it off.
'"It is nothing," he said; "the creature will be all right againdirectly. Horrid little cur! it rushed out at me from that cottage thereand yelped and barked just when I was eagerly hastening to your bower,Princess."
'But Aureole hardly heard him, or his attempts at excusing himself. Shewas on her knees before the poor dog.
'"Why, Fido," she said, "dear little Fido, do you not know me?" Fidofeebly tried to wag his tail.
'"Is it _your_ dog?" stammered Halbert. "I had no--not the slightestidea----"
'But Aureole flashed back an answer which startled him. "_My_ dog," shesaid. "No. But what has that to do with it? Oh, you cruel man!"
'Then she turned from him, the little dog all panting and bleeding inher arms. Halbert was startled by the look on her face.
'"Forgive me, Aureole," he cried. "I did not mean to hurt the creature.I am hasty and quick-tempered, but you should not punish so severely aninstant's thoughtlessness."
'"It was not thoughtlessness. It was cowardly cruelty," replied Aureoleslowly, turning her pale face towards him. "A man must have a cruel
nature who, even under irritation, could do what you have done.Farewell," and she was moving away when he stopped her.
'"What do you mean by farewell? You are not in earnest?" he exclaimed.But Aureole looked at him with indignation.
'"Not in earnest?" she repeated. "Never was I more so in my life!Farewell, Halbert."
'"And you will not see me again?" he exclaimed.
'"I will never see you again," Aureole replied, "till you have learnt tofeel for the sufferings of your fellow-creatures, instead of adding tothem. And who can say if that day will ever come? Farewell again,Halbert."
'The Prince stood thunderstruck, watching her slight figure as itdisappeared among the trees. He felt like a man in a dream. Then, as hegradually became conscious that it was all true, his hot temper brokeout in anger at Aureole, in mockery at her absurdity and exaggeration,and he tried to believe what he said, that no man could be happy with sofanciful and unreasonable a wife, and that he had nothing to regret. Inhis heart he was angry with himself, though to this he would not own,and conscious also that Aureole's instinct had judged him truly. He wasselfish and utterly thoughtless for others, and far on the way thereforeto becoming actually cruel. He had, like Aureole, been surrounded byluxury and indulgence all his life, but had not, like her, acquired thehabit of feeling for others and looking upon his own blessings as to beshared with those who were without them.
'Aureole kept to her word. She would not see Halbert again, though theKing, her father, did his utmost to shake her resolution. She remainedfirm. It was better so for both of them, she repeated. It would kill herto be the wife of such a man, and do him no good. So in bitter and angryresentment, rather than sorrow, Prince Halbert went away, and Aureole'slife returned to what it had been before his coming.