she stayed while the carriage rolled away down the hills,
and over the stone bridges, and past the cottages, till they came to the
woods. Then her mother drew her to her bosom and said, "Laura, darling,
I am about to do something for your good which seems very harsh. It
pains me, child, to do it; but you will thank me yet for it. In the
Forest of Pines, towards which we are now journeying, lives an old
friend of mine--a fairy friend--whom I have consulted in regard to you.
She knows that I desire your happiness, and she understands me when I
tell her that you seem drooping and unhappy; that it is more my
misfortune than my fault (for, having but one child, I do not know the
needs of children as well as those mothers who have many); and she has
bidden me bring you to her, with the promise that she will make you the
happy, loving little girl you ought to be. I shall feel the separation
keenly, I shall miss you sadly, but knowing that my little daughter is
to gain only good, I have made up my mind to let you make this visit."

Laura pouted a little, wept a little, and then, as the woods became
denser, crept closer to her mother.

"Am I to stay long, mamma?" she asked.

"That I do not know; it depends upon yourself."

"And what is the fairy's name, mamma?"

"She bade me not tell you her name; she wishes you to call her simple
_Motherkin_."

"How very queer!" said Laura. "I cannot do it."

"You will do better to obey her, my child."

"Is she cross? Is she ugly?"

"You may think her plain, but she is neither cross nor ugly."

The road here became almost blocked with bushes, and the wind in the
tops of the tall pine-trees made strange music.

"I would rather go home, mamma," said Laura, in a coaxing voice.

"That cannot be done, dearest," was the reply.

"Why not?--why cannot I return with you?"

"Because I have given my promise to the fairy, and a lady, my little
Laura, never breaks her word."

Laura knew that her mamma was not to be urged after speaking with so
much decision; so she sank back on the cushions and tried to fall
asleep. But her curiosity and anxiety were both aroused, and her eyelids
would not stay shut. Presently the carriage stopped.

"I can go no farther, my lady," said the coachman.

"Then we must walk," said Lady Idleways; and she bade Laura descend also
from the carriage. "You can turn the horses and unstrap Miss Laura's
trunk," she also said to the man; "there will be some one coming