Nothing more beautiful could well have been imagined than the day Lady
Idleways, Laura, and Kathie started for Idleways Castle. Towards morning
there had been a shower, which freshened every leaf, and gave a
glittering touch to every flower. It was a joyous, glad day, when even
the birds seemed to be happier; and when Laura bade farewell to her kind
friends, sorry as she was to leave them, she could not be unhappy.
The Motherkin and Grim escorted them through their woods and beyond the
door in the rock where Laura had first seen the fairy. At this point
they exchanged good wishes and made their final adieux, the Motherkin
never venturing out of the confines of the Forest of Pines--at least to
mortal vision she never went farther.
[Illustration: "LAURA THOUGHT SHE SAW A FAMILIAR OBJECT BEHIND A BUSH OF
SWEETBRIER."]
As they reached the limit of the woods, where Lady Idleways's carriage
was waiting, Laura thought she saw a familiar object partly hiding
behind a bush of sweetbrier. Kathie's eyes also turned in the same
direction, and she whispered to Laura, "Is that the Herb Elf, or is it
only a rabbit?"
"It is the elf. Look at his queue. I wonder what he wants? He seems to
be afraid of being noticed. Look! he is waving his cap to us, and then
he retreats behind the bush again."
"What is it detains you, children?" asked Lady Idleways; for both Kathie
and Laura lingered a little.
"The Herb Elf, mamma," whispered Laura.
"I see nothing but a rabbit, my dear."
"But it _is_ the elf, mamma. May I go speak to him? He may want to say
good-bye."
"Are you not afraid of his mischievous tricks?"
"He would not dare do any harm to me with you so near, mamma."
"Go, then; but do not let him urge you away out of my sight." Laura ran
to the bush of sweetbrier behind which the elf was hiding, at which he
capered and frisked about as if highly pleased.
"So you are going home, are you?" he asked.
"Yes, I am going, and Kathie is going with me. How could you let those
mosquitoes torment us so? The bites hurt yet. Look!" and she held out a
swollen finger.
At this the elf fumbled in his pockets, and drew out a peculiar-looking
ring. It seemed to be cut out of coral.
"There," said he, "this will make you believe me somewhat your friend.
Let me put it on that finger. See, the swelling goes down. While you
wear this, no insect can ever trouble you. Had you been ugly with me, I
should not have given you this. But you can have your choice between it
and your own blue ring. Which do you prefer?"
"Oh, yours, Mr. Elf, of course. Why, it's a real treasure."
"Of course it is; it came from China. Will you ever come to these woods
again?"
"I hope so. Good-bye, Mr. Elf, good-bye."
"Good-bye. You are a real little lady. Good-bye." And with any number of
twists and jerks and queer contortions, the rabbit-skin and its owner
disappeared in the forest.
Lady Idleways and Kathie looked at the elf's gift, and pronounced it a
very useful and pretty trinket. Then they all got in the carriage, and
turned their thoughts towards home.
It was late when they reached the castle; for the coachman lost his way,
and they were detained. Lights were gleaming from all the windows, and
as they neared the broad steps a delightful strain of music welcomed
their approach. Servants were waiting to greet them, and Laura was quite
overwhelmed with all their kind attentions. She could not but remember
how coldly and indifferently she had been in the habit of receiving
kindness before she left home; for, child that she was, she had learned
to think and reflect. Thrown upon her own efforts to make herself
comfortable and happy, and even to sustain her own life, she had grown
out of the listless, dissatisfied, unhappy child into a rational and
useful being, grateful and disposed to make others happy.
"Oh, Miss Laura, what a tall, lovely girl you are!" exclaimed Nannette,
looking at her affectionately and turning her around. "Who dresses
you, dear? and who brushes your beautiful hair? I have been lost without
you."
"I am my own maid, Nannette, and you will have to wait upon mamma in
future, or knit stockings for all the poor people. Do I not look well
dressed? Ah! here is my dear Fido. What a great big creature he has
become! And, oh! my dear Nannette, how are all the birds? and where is
Polly?
"Welcome! welcome!" screamed Polly, in reply.
Laura took Kathie about from room to room till the child was almost
bewildered; but so modest and refined was she by nature, that the
grandeur did not dazzle her. She was just the same simple, quiet child
of the woods, with a heart-sick and homesick longing to return to her
own poor home; and it was not many days before Laura and Lady Idleways
saw that the little wood-violet was drooping.
Kathie had been allowed a room next to Laura's, and each day Lady
Idleways gave them lessons together. They walked, they rode, they
gathered flowers. Kathie was teaching Laura to knit, and Laura was
teaching Kathie many little nice ways about herself; and Laura was all
brightness and energy--a veritable sunbeam, as all in the castle said;
but Kathie grew quieter and sadder, and one day Laura found her unable
to rise from her bed. In alarm she went to her mother.
"Mamma, Kathie is ill; her head is hot, and she says strange things to
me, and she moans as if in pain."
Lady Idleways found the child truly ill, and she had to forbid Laura's
even seeing her, for she knew not but that her fever might prove to be
contagious.
Nannette shook her head wisely, and took her place at the bedside, as if
now she had indeed some thing to occupy her.
Laura was lost without her companion, but made fresh bouquets and sent
them in every morning to her, and was always ready at the end of the
long hall to wait upon Nannette, that she might not leave her charge a
moment. Lady Idleways sent for a physician, and his face looked grave
when he came from Kathie's bedside.
"What is it, mamma?" asked Laura, as, with her books and Fido, she sat
in the embrasure of the large hall window, waiting for the doctor's
decision.
"It is a low fever, my darling, and we must do something to cheer the
child and make her hopeful. I am going now to write to your papa, to see
if he can get permission for Kathie's father to return. Meanwhile we
will get their cottage in order, cleaned, and made comfortable with all
that they need, and then we will take the little wild bird back to its
nest. These woodland creatures cannot live away from their haunts. Do
you understand, my Laura?"
"Yes, mamma; but I am so sorry."
"So am I, dear child."
So it was decided. The letter was written, and a favorable answer came.
Day after day went by, and yet Kathie could only take a little soup and
a little wine, and Laura was allowed to go beneath her window and talk
to her a while. And Lady Idleways was very busy, driving out to the
forest every day with a donkey-cart laden with many useful goods, going
and returning with work-people, and coming home to bid Laura hope that
Kathie would soon be very well and happy again.