The Windfairies

colour of the far-off sea, but it was difficult to say what was the colour of her hair, save that it was very light, and hung in heavy masses over her brow and shoulders. Once or twice her mother felt sorely frightened about her; it was when spring showers were falling, and the young girl had gone into the little garden in front of the cottage to let the rain fall upon her head and face, as she loved to do, in spite of all her mother could say. Then she began to dance, as she always did when the rain fell, and as she danced the sun came out while the rain was yet falling. Her mother watched her from the cottage-window, but while she watched her it seemed to her as if her daughter was covered with jewels of every colour, clear and bright; they hung around her in chains, and made her look more like a king’s daughter than a shepherd’s girl. “Come in, child, come in,” called the shepherd’s wife, and when the young girl came in the cottage all traces of the jewels had gone, and when her mother upbraided her for going out to dance in the rain, she only answered, “It hurts no one, my mother, and it pleases me, why should you stop me?”

A little way from the cottage on the mountainside stood an old castle, where formerly the Kings of the land used to come and stay, but which now had not been used for very many years. One day, however, the shepherd’s wife saw great preparations were being made to beautify and adorn it, and she knew that the King and his son were coming to stay there again. Soon after they had arrived, the shepherd’s daughter went down to the river, as was her wont, and sat on the bank, dipping her feet in the ripples. Presently there came up a boat, and it was a grand young man dressed all in velvet and gold who leaned over the side to fish.

“Who are you, and what are you doing here?” cried the shepherd’s daughter, for she was afraid of no one.

“I am the King’s son,” said he, “and I am coming here to fish. Who are you, and where do you come from, for I have never seen such a beautiful maiden in my life?” and he looked at her and could scarce speak, so beautiful did she seem to him.

“It is cruel to take the fishes out of the water,” cried the shepherd’s daughter, “leave them alone, and come and dance on the bank with me,” and she went under the shade of a large tree, and began to dance, and the King’s son watched her, and again he thought so beautiful a maid there had never been.

Day after day he came down to the river to fish, and day after day he left the line and tackle to sit and watch the shepherd’s daughter, and each time found her more enchanting. Once he tried to kiss her hand, but she sprang from him and left him sitting in his boat alone. At last a day came when the Prince said to his father, “My father, you want me to wed so that I may have an heir to the throne, but there is only one woman that can ever be my wife, and that is the daughter of the poor woman who lives in the little cottage out yonder.”

At first the old King was very wroth, but he loved his son well, and knew that nothing would shake him from his word, so he told him that if he would bring home his bride, he too would rejoice and love her as his daughter even though she be a beggar-maid. Then the young Prince rode down to the cottage, and went in and told the shepherd’s wife how he had seen her daughter, and loved her and wished to make her his wife, so that she would be Queen of the country.

The shepherd’s wife went nearly wild with joy. “To think that my daughter should be the Queen,” she said to herself, and when her daughter came into the cottage she did not know how to contain herself, but folded her in her arms and kissed her, crying and declaring that never was woman so blessed.

“Why, what has happened, my mother? and what has pleased you so?” said her daughter, while still the shepherd’s wife rejoiced and wept for joy.

“It is the King’s son, my girl, the King’s own son, and he has just been here, and he loves you because you are so beautiful, and he will marry you and make you Queen of all the land. Was there ever such luck for a poor woman?”

But the daughter only said, “But I don’t want to marry the King’s son, mother, or anyone. I will never be the wife of any man; I will stay with you and nurse you when you are old and sick, for I can live in no house but this cottage, and have no friend but my mother.”

On hearing this the shepherd’s wife became very angry, and told her daughter that she must be mad, and that she must wait for a day or two, and she would be only too thankful for the love of the King’s son, and for the honour he was going to do her in making her his Queen. But still the daughter shook her head, and said quite quietly, “I will never be the wife of the King’s son.” The shepherd’s wife did not dare tell the King’s son what her daughter had said, but told him that he had better speak to her himself if he wished to make her his wife. Then when he was again sitting in the boat on the river, and the maiden on the bank, the King’s son told her how much he loved her, and that he would share