The Magic Nuts Part 21

'But Emerald only smiled in return.

'"I shall never get tired of her," she said; "she is my own treasure-trove."

'Nevertheless, during all this time some misgiving, low down in her heart or conscience, made her keep away from the aged sea-lady, who had often in time past reproved her for her thoughtlessness. Why she did so she excused to herself by saying she had no leisure now for anything but care for the little girl.

"And the great-grandmother could not but be pleased if she knew how my time is spent," she would say to herself; "she was always the one to tell me to be of use to others and to be more sedate, and I am certainly now following her counsel." Yet notwithstanding these a.s.surances to herself, she took care that in their playing and gambolling she and the baby should keep away from the cave where dwelt the aged grand-dame.

'So time went on. It pa.s.ses perhaps more quickly, or its pa.s.sing is less noticed, down in the under-world of the ocean, than with the dwellers on the land. It seemed to Emerald but a few days since the coming of her little pet, when her happy belief that all was right received a sudden blow. Baby was growing big now, for nearly as much of her life had by this time been spent in the sea as on land, and Emerald had fondly hoped that all remembrance of her own home had faded from the child's mind.

The princess arrived one day on a visit to her parents. Emerald had always been a favourite of hers, and meeting her playing in the palace gardens with her little charge, she stopped to speak to them.

'"Ah, Emerald," she said, "so this is the pretty child you saved? I have heard of her. How well you have treasured her, and I, too, have been careful of _my_ treasure." She touched the long golden chain hanging round her neck as she spoke, and playfully tossed it towards the little girl, who caught it, laughing. But as she looked more closely at the golden links in her fingers, a change came over her little face; it grew troubled, and Emerald, fearful lest she should begin to cry, made some excuse to the princess and carried her away, talking merrily as they went. But the child's face did not clear.

'"Emerald," she said, for by this time she could talk quite perfectly, "something has come back to me. I remember that pretty chain. I threw it into the water, when brother was running after me. Oh, Emerald, I want to go home to him and the others. You may come too, dear Emerald, but I must go home."

'Her words sent a thrill of fear through the heart of her young sea-mother.

'"Oh, baby darling," she said, "what has put such fancies in your little head? Are you not happy with Emerald and all your pretty toys and games?

Emerald cannot go away from her own country, and she would be too miserable without you. And you--you would cry sadly at night, if she was not there to sing you to sleep."

'And the trouble on the mermaiden's face, as she spoke thus, grieved the little girl, for she had a tender heart. She gently stroked Emerald's cheeks, and said no more for the time. But from that moment, ever and anon, there crept into her soft blue eyes the strange, sad, far-away look which told that the charm was broken. She was pining for her own race and her own land.

'Emerald tried not to see it, tried to persuade herself that the child would be miserable away from the sea country, that it would be cruel to the little creature herself to restore her to her friends. Gradually, however, it became impossible to go on deceiving herself. Baby grew thin and pale--every one noticed it. Though gentle and tender as ever to her mermaid nurse, it was rarely now that her voice was heard in laughter or glee; and her smiles were even sadder than the wistfulness in her face.

'But all this time, though Emerald knew it not, her aged friend had kept watch over her and her new experience; and one day there came a message, bidding her go to the grand-dame's cave, as she had something to say to her. This was a summons no young mermaid would have dared to disobey, and so, holding the little girl as usual by the hand, she made her way thither.

'Her old friend looked at her earnestly.

'"It is long since you have been to see me, my child," she said, "and this is your little charge."

'She drew the little girl towards her as she spoke, and kissed her.

'"Are you happy with Emerald?" she asked her gently. The child's pale face flushed deeply.

'"Emerald is very good to me," she replied, "and sometimes I am very happy, but I have a pain here," and she touched her heart. "I want to go home, I want to see brother and mamma and nurse again; until I do, the pain won't go away."

'"It will get better soon, I think," said the sea lady, and then she drew the child's attention to a charming rockery in one corner of her cave, so that she could speak to Emerald without being heard.

'"You have known this, I fear," she began. "You are not doing right, my child, and your own heart must tell you so."

'Emerald hung her head.

'"You told me," she said, "you told me not to live for myself, but for the service of others--have I not been doing so?"

'"You did well," was the reply, "in saving the child's life, and since then you might have had other chances of the same kind, but you have never returned to the upper world to seek for them. You have yielded to the pleasure to yourself, of giving all your time to her, forgetting or refusing to believe that you have no right to her. She is neither of our race nor blood--think of the bitter tears that must have been shed for her by her own people. See now--now that she is growing older and nature is speaking to her--the suffering that is beginning for herself. No child's face should look as hers does."

'It was enough. Emerald threw herself at her old friend's feet in deepest repentance.

'"It is all true," she cried; "I see it now, and indeed I knew it before, but I would not let myself think of it. I will take baby back to her home--now, at once, before my courage fails me."

'And the little girl, hearing the distress in her dear Emerald's voice, ran forward.

'"What is it," she said; "is the lady angry with you?"

'"No, no," was the reply, "I am very pleased with Emerald; and now, my little girl, the pain at your heart will go. Emerald is going to take you home, home to your mother and your brother, and you will be very happy."

'"But Emerald will come too?" asked the little girl; for though her face grew rosy with delight, her heart misgave her for her mermaid friend.

'Emerald drew her towards her and kissed her fondly.

'"My darling," she whispered, "I will carry you home myself, but I could not stay in your country."

'"And shall I never see you again, then?" asked the little girl sadly.

'"I cannot say," Emerald replied; "but sometimes, if I may, I will come to the edge of the beautiful garden where is your home, and sing softly, so that you will know I am there. But this must be a secret between you and me. And now," she went on, "there is no time to lose; clasp your arms tightly round my neck, my little one, for we have a long way to go."

'Their old friend smiled in approval.

'"Sing to her, my child," she murmured, "it will lull her to sleep and save her the pain of parting from you. The sun is still high in the heavens, it will be still full daylight when you reach the upper world.

Lay her on the gra.s.s near the spot where you found her and kiss her on the brow. But do not linger yourself; she will wake to full remembrance of her life before she came to you, and all will be well."'

With these words the spinning-wheel fairy's voice ceased, but Hildegarde and Leonore did not move or speak for some moments. Then they raised their heads and gazed at their kind friend. 'Oh, thank you, thank you,'

they said, 'for the story and the pictures; we couldn't look up at first, for we saw something more than you had told us. Almost the loveliest pictures of all came at the end.'

'There was one,' said Hildegarde, 'of the baby running to her mother in the garden, and the little brother came too, and they knew her again in a moment, though she had been so long away--oh, it was beautiful!'

'And,' added Leonore, 'the last of all nearly made me cry. The baby had grown quite big and was standing near the water's edge. Emerald had been singing to her, and just for one moment we saw her face--so sad, but so sweet. Oh, how I should love to have a mermaid friend.'

But even as she spoke, her voice grew drowsy. She knew the spinning-wheel fairy was smiling at her and Hildegarde, and they both felt her gently releasing the rainbow thread from their fingers, but after that they knew no more, till a sound of tapping woke them up.

It was Amalia, knocking at the door of the blue-silk room; and when they opened their eyes, there they were, lying on the soft fleecy rug in front of the fire, as if they had never moved the whole afternoon.

'What a nice little sleep you have had, young ladies,' said the maid; 'and now coffee is waiting in the drawing-room, and the Baroness has sent me to fetch you. There is good news for you, too; the snow has ceased falling and the wind has gone down. Old Rudolph says we shall probably have nice clear frost now, and he is talking of getting the pond ready for you to skate.'

'It will be nice to be able to go out again,' said Hildegarde to Leonore with a smile, 'especially as we have no more nuts to crack.'

'Yes,' said Leonore with a sigh; 'but some day, Hildegarde, surely _some_ day, the dear fairy will send for us again. Don't you think so?'

THE END