The Sunshine lady shook her head.
"No, indeed," she replied. "It is simply to keep carefully two gifts which we have prepared for you, and to use them as I will describe. But—there is the condition."
"What is it?" said Merran eagerly. "I'm sure you wouldn't want me to do anything wrong, or to promise anything I can't be sure of being able for, so I do promise now, this very minute, even before you tell me."
She was rewarded by a smile.
"You do right to trust me," said the fairy. "All I bind you to is this—to tell no one of the magic gifts, to keep your possession of them a complete secret, until——"
"Till when?" Merran interrupted.
"Till you are grown up, and only then if you marry and love your husband dearly. For I know that without complete confidence, little rifts are sadly apt to come between even those who love each other most truly."
"I don't think I'll ever marry," said the poor little maiden. "I'm too ugly and stupid. But still, if ever I did, I know I'd love my husband, 'cos you see it would be so kind of him to love me. And then it would be nice to tell him the secret, if it would do him good too. Oh I do wonder what it is you're going to give me!"
Fairy Sunshine slipped her hand into the front of her bodice and drew out something. At the same moment the Rain brownie, or gnome—no, he was too handsome to be a gnome—or whatever you like to call him, came forward again, and he too was holding something. Together the pair presented their gifts, and Merran gave a little cry of delight as she saw what they were. One was a tiny umbrella, a real umbrella, not a sham toy one, or a gold or silver "charm," such as ladies hang by their watch-chains, no, a real, exquisitely made and finished umbrella of green silk and with a beautifully carved ivory handle.
"I have made it myself," said the Rain man. "It will never wear out and never lose its power, unless you forget your promise."