There she beheld--not the image of the elfin-queen, but of the peasant
maid, with her mantle of crimson wool, her coarse dress, and her black
crucifix. She turned away in disgust, but soon her people brought her
elfin mirrors, wherein she could see her present self, gorgeously clad,
and a thousand times more fair. It kindled in her heart a proud desire.

She said to her lord, "Let me go back for a little while to my native
village, and my ancient home, that I may show them all my splendor, and
my greatness. Let me enter, sitting in my gilded chariot, with the four
white horses, and feel myself as queen-like as the lady I once saw
beneath the oak-wood."

Kong Tolv laughed, and assented. "But," he said, "keep thy own proud
self the while. The first sigh, the first tear, and I carry thee back
into the hill with shame."

So Hyldreda left the fairy-palace, sweeping through the village, with a
pageant worthy a queen. Thus in her haughtiness, after seven years had
gone by, she came to her mother's door.

Seven years, none of which had cast one shadow on the daughter's beauty.
But time and grief together had bowed the mother almost to the verge of
the grave. The one knew not the other, until little Resa came between;
little Resa, who looked her sister's olden self, blooming in the
sweetness of seventeen. Nothing to her was the magnificence of the
beautiful guest; she only saw Hyldreda, the lost and found.

"Where hast thou been?" said the mother, doubtfully, when in answer to
all their caresses, the stately lady only looked on them with a proud
smile; "Who gave thee those grand dresses, and put the matron's vail
upon thy hair?"

"I am the Hill-king's wife," said Hyldreda. "I dwell in a gorgeous
palace, and sit on a queen's throne."

"God preserve thee!" answered the mother. But Hyldreda turned away, for
Kong Tolv had commanded her never to hear or utter the holy Name. She
began to inquire about her long-forgotten home, but half-carelessly, as
if she had no interest in it now.

"And who was it," she asked, "that wept on the hill-side until the tears
dropped through, staining my palace walls?"

"I," answered Resa, blushing; and then Hyldreda perceived that, young as
she was, the girl wore the matron's head-tire. "I, sitting there with my
babe, wept to think of my poor sister who died long ago, and never knew
the sweetness of wifehood and motherhood. And almost it grieved me, to
think that my love had blotted out the bit