But one night he begged her at least never to leave him. Now it chanced on that very day Beauty had looked in her glass. There she saw her father sick with grief, for he thought his child was dead. Her sisters were married. Her brothers were soldiers. So she told all this to the Beast, and wept and said she should die if she could not see her father once more.
“Do not refuse to let me go!” she begged.
“No,” said the Beast. “I will not refuse you. I would much rather your poor Beast should die of grief for your absence. So you may go.”
“Oh, thank you, dear Beast,” said Beauty, “and I will surely come back in a week.”
“When you wish to come back, Beauty, lay your ring on the table before you go to bed, and you will find yourself here when you wake. Good-night, Beauty.”
“Good-night, Beast.”
The next morning Beauty woke to find herself at the farm-house. Her father was so glad to see her once more, and to know she was alive and well, that his sickness left him at once. He sent for her sisters, who came and brought their husbands.
These husbands were not much to be praised. One was so vain that he looked at himself, and seldom looked at his wife. The other had a sharp tongue, and liked to use it on other people, and most of all on his own wife. So the sisters were no happier than they had been.
But they were still jealous of Beauty, and they laid a plan for her hurt. They thought if they could keep her at home after the week was over, the Beast would be so angry, he would soon make an end of her. So, at the end of the week, they made a great ado, and begged her to stay just a little longer. Beauty could not help being glad to have her sisters want her. She said she would stay one week more; but she was not quite easy in her mind.
On the night of the tenth day the sisters gave her a feast, in order to make her forget the Beast. But at night Beauty dreamed she saw poor Beast lying half dead on the grass in the palace garden. She woke in tears, and at once laid her ring on the table, and then went to sleep again.