For a few days, however, Eva noticed that Aster seemed dull and spiritless. He scarcely ever spoke, but walked quietly by her side. Nothing seemed to attract his attention, nothing made him smile; but every now and then, when they would cross one of the little brooks, and it would sing its song, he would look down upon his dress, and say, sadly:

“It will never be bright again!”

Yet Eva noticed that he was careful never to trample on the flowers, or to hurt anything in their path. And as, day after day, the moon brightened and broadened, and Aster grew with her increase, Eva saw that the sad, mournful expression in his eyes vanished, and they regained their former starlike brilliancy. By slow degrees the spots and the stains upon his dress disappeared; and, as they faded away, Aster became once more his own playful and happy self. Never before had he been as gentle or as docile and affectionate as he now was, though he was very silent; and Eva thought, could he only be always as he was now she would be content never to leave him; and she began to think, almost with dread, of their approaching separation.

On and on they went, till they came to a place where a tiny spring, bright as a living diamond, gushed up joyously, singing to itself for very gladness. Soft green mosses and pure white flowers grew around it; and when Aster saw it, he sprang forward with a joyous cry, and seating himself near it, he beckoned to Eva to follow his example.

Then, for the first time since the two had been together, for he had never before mentioned the past, so that Eva almost thought he had forgotten it, Aster asked her to tell him how she ever had found him again.

And once more Eva told the story,—this time to an interested listener,—how, after she missed him, she had sought him, but in vain, among the marked holes, and, seeking him, had climbed the rock to the door of the Valley of Rest; how she had been admitted, and had dwelt among the Happy Children till, the day of their absence, the little brook had brought her the piteous cry, “Eva! Eva! help me!” How this cry had recalled all she had forgotten, how the Dawn Fairies had given her the magic boat, in which she had gone through the cavern and down the Brook of Mists,—and then, leaving the boat, had gone, all alone, up the Enchanted River to the grotto of the Toad-Woman behind the Cascade of Rocks; how the woman had advised her, and how she had served the Green Frog; what the moth, the mouse, and the bird had done for her; how the skin covering the little green bird had been torn; and how, after the Frog was carried away by the friendly Fish Fairies, she had known that the worst was over, and the search nearly done.

Aster listened, and when Eva paused, he began; and it seemed to her that, as he told his story, he spoke as he had never before spoken,—as if he was older, and more matured.

“I can tell you now,” he said, “now that it is all nearly over, who THEY were of whom you used to wonder that I spoke. The Green Frog and her servants were the visible forms of THEY to whom my punishment was committed. Yet, had I obeyed you,—which was part of my trial,—you, under whose care my friends, who advised you in the shape of the toad and the Toad-Woman, were allowed to place me, but little of this trouble would have come upon me. If I failed in obedience to you,—such was the condition,—if THEY gained the slightest hold upon me,—I must fall wholly into their power, and then only, if you really wished it, could your Love have power to overcome their Hate. And you know, Eva, how I fell into their hands.”

“Yes, I know,” Eva said; “but I do not yet see why you crept into the crevice in the rock.”

“How could I help it?” Aster asked. “After all I had done, and all that had happened before! Because what must be, will be, and THEY made me.”