The Princess thought the Sea-grandmother's face young and lovely. It was smooth and unwrinkled; eyes clear as crystal, with blue depths in them, shining out with a soft benign look; while her slim hands turned and twisted unceasingly, and her long green dress fell round her in wave-like folds.
Her smile was so soft and kind, that the Princess felt as if she had known her all her life.
"I have sent for your shoe, my child," she said. "Those tiresome grandchildren of mine give me a great deal of trouble. I can't keep my eyes on all of them at once, and so they are always in mischief!"
Sidigunda looked up in the gentle face; and sat down confidingly beside the Sea-grandmother.
"Do you always knit so busily, Grandmother?" she said, as she watched the white foamy fabric float off the needles.
"Of course, child. I have been working like this for thousands and thousands of years. Who do you imagine would provide the waves with nightcaps if I ever stopped? When the wind blows and they dance, or when they curl over on the shore, they would be cold indeed, without my comfortable white nightcaps!"
"Can you get me my shoe, dear Grandmother?" asked the little Princess wistfully.
"Certainly, dear child. Though if you had not come at once, you might have had to wait a few hundred years or so, before I could have found it for you. The children wander so far now-a-days! Have you seen it?" the Sea-grandmother continued, turning to some of the children who surrounded her.
"Oh, yes," they answered in chorus. "Just now it floated above us. We can fetch it in a minute!"
"Swim away then, as fast as you can!" cried the Sea-grandmother, and the children darted off like fish through the green clearness of the water.