t and wailed. The hours passed,
the shadows of evening began to fall, and the wise woman entered.

XIII.

She went straight to the bed, and taking Rosamond in her arms, sat down
with her by the fire.

"My poor child!" she said. "Two terrible failures! And the more the
harder! They get stronger and stronger. What is to be done?"

"Couldn't you help me?" said Rosamond piteously.

"Perhaps I could, now you ask me," answered the wise woman. "When you
are ready to try again, we shall see."

"I am very tired of myself," said the princess. "But I can't rest till
I try again."

"That is the only way to get rid of your weary, shadowy self, and find
your strong, true self. Come, my child; I will help you all I can, for
now I CAN help you."

Yet again she led her to the same door, and seemed to the princess to
send her yet again alone into the room. She was in a forest, a place
half wild, half tended. The trees were grand, and full of the loveliest
birds, of all glowing gleaming and radiant colors, which, unlike the
brilliant birds we know in our world, sang deliciously, every one
according to his color. The trees were not at all crowded, but their
leaves were so thick, and their boughs spread so far, that it was only
here and there a sunbeam could get straight through. All the gentle
creatures of a forest were there, but no creatures that killed, not
even a weasel to kill the rabbits, or a beetle to eat the snails out of
their striped shells. As to the butterflies, words would but wrong them
if they tried to tell how gorgeous they were. The princess's delight
was so great that she neither laughed nor ran, but walked about with a
solemn countenance and stately step.

"But where are the flowers?" she said to herself at length.

They were nowhere. Neither on the high trees, nor on the few shrubs
that grew here and there amongst them, were there any blossoms; and in
the grass that grew everywhere there was not a single flower to be seen.

"Ah, well!" said Rosamond again to herself, "where all the birds and
butterflies are living flowers, we can do without the other sort."

Still she could not help feeling that flowers were wanted to make the
beauty of the forest complete.

Suddenly she came out on a little open glade; and there, on the root of
a great oak, sat the loveliest little girl, with her lap full of
flowers of all colors, but of such kinds as Rosamond had never before
seen. She was playing with them--b