"And why should that knowledge distress thee?" asked the Princess, sitting down at his feet.
"Because I love her. Her voice is music. I am pining to see her."
He trembled as he spoke. The Princess rose, laughing.
"Well, this is a strange garden," she said. "I did think my Rose-Mallow was sensible. What is it," she cried aloud, "what is this Love, for which all Nature pines?"
There was no answer; but the sun shot down a handful of golden sunbeams upon her face, which dazzled her and made her laugh again.
"Ah! thou wilt know ere long," said the Rose-Mallow, much hurt at her want of sympathy. "Do not think, Princess, that the most beautiful of women will be allowed to go unscathed."
Myra threw her arms around him, to make up for her unfeeling remarks, and then in soft tones advised him to climb the wall and look over at his lady-love.
"But it will take so long, and be so hard!" he replied.
"Still, thy reward may be great, sweet flower. Look higher than the homely flowers of thy home, for the blossom beyond the walls may be far more rare, and may outshine them all."