The girl turned the hat around and looked at it on every side.
“Of course, I could not wear it as it is,” she said, “but I am sure I can alter it. Yes, I can change the shape and then, with these new trimmings, it will be perfectly lovely. I thank you ever so much. But please do not come any nearer; you might forget yourself.”
“And you are going to be married?” asked the dryad.
“Yes, truly, if I can,” said the girl, “but my step-mother does not wish it; she wants me to stay here and work for her. But I shall be patient and, in the meantime, I am so glad that he will see me in my new hat.”
“And is your step-mother so very cross?” asked the dryad.
“Oh, very! If she were at home I could not let you stay here, and as I expect her to come back shortly, I am afraid—”
The poor dryad clasped her hands. “You do not mean,” she said, “that I must go away? I hoped that I might stay here until the people of the village were all in bed.”
“I am very sorry,” said the girl, “but really, if my step-mother should come back and see you here I don’t know what would happen; but I will tell you what I will do: I will lend you one of my frocks and a cape, and you can put on my sun-bonnet; then you can go out and look for a tree and people will not be apt to notice you, and if you will come back after a while, when my step-mother has gone to bed, I will go out with you and help you to find a tree if you have not found one. Oh, now please don’t! People can be very grateful without kissing, you know, and I will bring you the clothes in a minute.”
When the dryad had put on the frock and the little cape and the sun-bonnet, she looked very much like an ordinary person, and when she went out on the street nobody noticed her, for there were girls in that village who were so poor that they were obliged to go barefooted.