jeweled lamps was alive: it seemed to float
before her as she walked between the golden pillars, and to close
softly behind her in the echo of her footsteps.

And Proserpina knew that all the glitter of these precious stones was
not worth a single sunbeam, nor could the rubies and emeralds which
she played with ever be as dear to her as the daisies and buttercups
she had gathered among the soft green grass.

King Pluto felt how much happier his palace was since Proserpina came,
and so did all his servants. They loved to hear her childish voice
laughing as she ran from room to room, and they felt less old and
tired when they saw again how glad little children can be.

"My own little Proserpina," King Pluto used to say, "I wish you would
like me a little better. Although I look rather a sad man, I am really
fond of children, and if you would stay here with me always, it would
make me happier than having hundreds of palaces like this."

"Ah," said Proserpina, "you should have tried to make me like you
first before carrying me off, and now the best thing you can do is to
let me go again; then I might remember you sometimes and think that
you were as kind as you knew how to be. Perhaps I might come back to
pay you a visit one day."

"No, no," answered Pluto, with his gloomy smile, "I will not trust
you for that. You are too fond of living in the sunshine and gathering
flowers. What an idle, childish thing to do! Do you not think that
these diamonds which I have had dug out of the mine for you are far
prettier than violets?"

"No, oh no! not half so pretty," said Proserpina, snatching them from
Pluto's hand, and flinging them to the other end of the room. "O my
sweet purple violets, shall I ever see you again?" and she began to
cry bitterly.

But like most children, she soon stopped crying, and in a short time
she was running up and down the rooms as when she had played on the
sands with the sea-children. And King Pluto, sad and lonely, watched
her and wished that he too was a child, and when Proserpina turned and
saw the great King standing alone in his splendid hall, so grand and
so lonely, with no one to love him, she felt sorry for him. She ran
back and for the first time in all those six months she put her small
hand in his. "I love you a little," she whispered, looking up into his
face.

"Do you really, dear child?" cried Pluto, bending down his dark face
to kiss her. But Proserpina was a little afraid, he was