maiden. I do not know why; but I have such a fancy for the little creature," passing her hand caressingly over the golden hair, that fell in natural curls down the sun-burnt neck.
"You do not know," said the old woman, "no, I dare say not; nor do you know why you take half a dozen other fancies; but you may have her if you like. I shall be glad to be rid of the charge. I am too old to work for any but myself now; and I suppose you will give me something for her services. I am aged and poor."
"Oh! yes," cried the Princess, hastily unfastening an embroidered purse that hung at her girdle; and, taking a few pieces of gold, gave them to the old woman, who received them without thanks; and, after holding them for a moment in the sunshine, deposited them in her huge pocket.
"Let the child speak for herself; Mimi, will you go with the Princess."
The only answer the child made was to put her hand into that of the lady, and to look smilingly in her face.
"Silence gives consent," said Sophie; for it was the Princess of Zell, the betrothed of the Elector of Hanover, who now stood before them. "She shall go with me then; and, as we stay here for three hours, I can have her prettily dressed before we set out;" and stooping down, she parted the bright hair on the forehead, and kissed the little maiden with delight, almost as childish as her own.
But Sophie was quite a girl, and the character of her beauty was that of girlhood. The check was blooming, and the mouth was rosy, and the clear blue eyes seemed as if they had never known a deeper shadow than that of their own soft and long eyelashes. It was a sweet and a happy face, and no wonder that little Mimi looked upon it with sudden love and confidence. Poor child, she had known cold, hunger, the hard word, and the angry blow—all life’s small share of happi-
