"Then they can't be pretty," said Sybil decidedly, "not unless their tails are beautiful and sweeping out, like peacocks! Are they?—one day I tied a shawl of mother's on, it was a red and gold shawl, and I sweeped it about just like a peacock,—that would be pretty."
"I don't think mermaids' tails are like that," said Carrots, doubtfully, "but they are pretty ladies, aren't they, Floss?"
"Beautiful," said Floss, "but they're very sad. They come up to the shore at night and comb their hair and cry dreadfully."
"What do they cry for?" asked Sybil and Carrots, pressing up to Floss, and forgetting all about the lovely sand house.
"Because they—no, you couldn't understand," she broke off; "it is no good telling you."
"Oh do tell," said the children.
"Well," said Floss, "I read in a book of Cecil's, they cry because they haven't got any souls. When they die they can't go to heaven, you see."
Sybil and Carrots looked very solemn at this. Then a sudden thought struck Carrots.
"How can they cry if they haven't got souls, Floss?" he said, "nurse says it's our souls that make us glad and sorry. Are you sure the poor mermaids haven't got souls?"
"I'm only telling you what I read in a book," said Floss. "I dare say it's all a sort of fairy tale. Don't you like fairy tales, Sybil?"