"I do not know," answered Little Sister. "Ever since last autumn fell it has been so. Always, before, he has been happy; he has no reason not to be, only he is lame."
She had come close to the seated figure; and looking, she saw a woman with a very white skin, in a robe and hood of deep grey. Grey eyes looked back at her with just a soft touch in them of the green that comes with the young leaves of spring.
"You are beautiful," said Little Sister, drawing in her breath.
"Yes, I am beautiful," answered the other. "Why is Fair Brother lame? Has he no feet?"
"Oh, beautiful feet!" said Little Sister. "But they are like still water; they cannot run."
"If you want him to run," said the other, "I can tell you what to do. What will you give me in exchange?"
"Whatever you like to ask," answered Little Sister; "but I am poor."
"You have beautiful hair," said the woman; "will you let that go?"
Little Sister stooped down her head, and let the other cut off her hair. The wind went out of it with a sigh as it fell into the grey woman's lap. She hid it away under her robe, and said, "Listen, Little Sister, and I will tell you! To-night is the new moon. If you can hold your tongue till the moon is full, the feet of Fair Brother shall run like a stream from the hills, dancing from rock to rock."
"Only tell me what I must do!" said Little Sister.