not listen, and at last she grew angry.

'Oh, I know why you are so anxious not to miss the dance,' she said;
'it is because Azilicz of Penenru will be there.'

Now Azilicz was the loveliest girl for miles round, and she and Denis
had known each other from childhood.

'Oh yes, Azilicz will be there,' answered Denis, who was quite pleased
to see her jealous, 'and naturally one would go a long way to watch her
dance.'

'Go then!' cried Tephany, and entering the house she slammed the door
behind her.

Lonely and miserable she sat down by the fire and stared into the red
embers. Then, flinging the feather from her hair, she put her head on
her hands, and sobbed passionately.

'What is the use of being clever when it is beauty that men want? That
is what I ought to have asked for. But it is too late, Denis will never
come back.'

'Since you wish it so much you shall have beauty,' said a voice at her
side, and looking round she beheld the old woman leaning on her stick.

'Fasten this necklace round your neck, and as long as you wear it you
will be the most beautiful woman in the world,' continued the fairy.
With a little shriek of joy Tephany took the necklace, and snapping the
clasp ran to the mirror which hung in the corner. Ah, _this_ time she
was not afraid of Azilicz or of any other girl, for surely none could be
as fair and white as she. And with the sight of her face a thought came
to her, and putting on hastily her best dress and her buckled shoes she
hurried off to the dance.

On the way she met a beautiful carriage with a young man seated in it.

'What a lovely maiden!' he exclaimed, as Tephany approached. 'Why, there
is not a girl in my own country that can be compared to her. She, and no
other, shall be my bride.'

The carriage was large and barred the narrow road, so Tephany was
forced, much against her will, to remain where she was. But she looked
the young man full in the face as she answered:

'Go your way, noble lord, and let me go mine. I am only a poor peasant
girl, accustomed to milk and make hay and spin.'

'Peasant you may be, but I will make you a great lady,' said he, taking
her hand and trying to lead her to the carriage.

'I don't want to be a great lady, I only want to be the wife of Denis,'
she replied, throwing off his hand and running to the ditch which
divided the road from the cornfield, where she hoped to hide. Unluckily
the young man guessed what she was doing, and signed to