iamond necklace was just as beautiful as ever; her opal bed seemed
all alive with trembling colors, soft white and flashing crimson; and
the king welcomed her right royally, without a word of reproach for her
long absence.

But for all that, her heart grew heavier every day. Even the attentions
of the gate-keeper became tiresome; and when he tried to make her laugh
with his merry ways, she could only smile sadly, and say, "Oh, it was
such a disappointment to be picked, and then thrown away."

"Never mind--never mind," he would answer, cheerily: "better luck next
time." And so the days dragged slowly by until another spring.

Then the princess began to hope once more; and when she found herself
actually lifting her head into the sunlight, and felt the soft air blow
over her, she wondered how she could ever have believed for a moment
that anything was better or more beautiful than the deep blue sky above
one, and the green earth beneath.

Contented and happy, she waited patiently through wind and rain, until
it seemed as if her patience were to be rewarded.

A young man on a jet-black horse came riding through the woods. His face
was bright and handsome, and he looked out upon the world with as merry
a pair of eyes as you would care to see.

"Oh, if he would only take me home!" thought the flower. "I should like
to be rescued by such a handsome youth as he." And in spite of her
yellow primrose face, the little flower actually blushed.

"What a bright little flower!" said the young man, as he rode along.
"If it were not so much trouble getting off my horse, I would carry it
home to Marjorie. But it's only a commonplace little primrose after
all," he added, and so rode on.

That night the little flower cried itself to sleep among the shadows,
and before morning it had withered on its stem.

"I will never make the attempt again," said the Princess Bebe, when she
found herself once more in the kingdom of the mineral-workers.

[Illustration: THE PRINCESS BEBE AND ALECK.]

"Oh yes, you will," said the gate-keeper, who had come forward to meet
her. "If life is worth having, it is worth struggling for. Next year I
shall send you up for your trial, whether you consent or not."

"If that is the case, I suppose I may as well consent at once," said the
princess, and so yielded the point.

And when the long, long days of another year had come and gone, she left
the kingdom of the mineral-workers for the third time. For t