At last the old woman started from her sleep, and wondering what had become of Daisy, went to look for her.
She seized the bread with a cry of joy, and breaking a morsel, ate it eagerly, as she led Daisy towards the fire, which she had built up again.
"Now, see the difference between your food and mine." As the fairy spoke, Daisy looked up, and saw, to her surprise, the wrinkles smooth away, and a beautiful light break over the old brown face, the wide mouth shrink to a little rosy one, all smiles, and pearly teeth inside. The fairy's eyes grew brighter than ever; but the dreadful glittering look had gone, and they were full of joy, and peace, and love.
"Wait, now, till I take my medicine." Her voice had changed to the softest, most silvery one that Daisy ever heard.
And when she had tasted the drink, her poor old crooked hands grew plump and white, her bent form straightened, and, what made Daisy wonder more, even her clothes began to change.
First they looked cleaner, then not so faded, then the rags disappeared, and they seemed new and whole; and then they began to grow soft and rich, till the ragged cotton gown was changed to velvet and satin, the knotted old turban to delicate lace, that hung heavy with pearls, but was not so delicate and beautiful as the golden hair that floated about the fairy wherever she moved.
"Poor child!" she said; "you are tired and cold; come, rest with me;" and taking Daisy in her arms, began to sing the sweetest songs, that seemed to change every thing into music, even the wailing tempest and her mother's sobs.
And all the while that tender, loving face bent over her, and the gentle hands were smoothing her wet hair, and folding her more closely to the fairy's heart.