“Then, perhaps some night they will take you up to dance with them in the meadows above ground.”
“But I could not get away. They would tread on my heels—oh! I could never escape them.”
“I know that,” said the woman; “your only chance is this. If ever, when dancing in the meadows, you can find a four-leaved clover, hold it in your hand and wish to be at home. Then no one can stop you. Meanwhile I advise you to seem happy, and they may think you are content, and have forgotten the world. And dance, above all, dance!”
And Amelia, not to be behindhand, began then and there to dance some pretty figures on the heath. As she was dancing the dwarf came by.
“Ho, ho!” said he, “you can dance, can you?”
“When I am happy, I can,” said Amelia, performing several graceful movements as she spoke.
“What are you pleased about now?” snapped the dwarf, suspiciously.
“Have I not reason?” said Amelia. “The dresses are washed and mended.”
“Then up with them!” returned the dwarf. On which half a dozen elves popped the whole lot into a big basket and kicked them up into the world, where they found their way to the right wardrobes somehow.
As the woman of the heath had said, Amelia was soon set to a new task. When she bade the old woman farewell, she asked if she could do nothing for her if ever she got at liberty herself.