“My name is Poor Dorel,” replied the child; “my father and mother are long since dead; and I have nothing to eat but goat’s milk and strawberries:” and, as she spoke, the large tears started afresh.
“Poor Dorel! you are the first one I ever saw who had as much trouble as I. I, too, have lost a father and mother.”
“Were they a king and queen?” asked Dorel, wiping her eyes, and gazing at Little One’s beautiful dress and glittering ornaments.
“They loved me dearly,” replied Little One sadly; “yet I never heard that they were king and queen. Come with me, darling Dorel! I never before saw any one who was hungry. Come with me! I live in a country where there is food enough for everybody.”
“Where is that?” said Dorel, eagerly.
“I do not quite know, little girl; but it is not in the bosom of the earth, and it is not in the sun-bright deep: so I suppose it is over the hills, and far away.”
“Now I know who you are,” said Dorel. “You are the lost sylphid; and people say you have travelled all over the world. But, if you do not know the way home, pray how can you tell which road to take?”
“Oh! I have a guide,—a beautiful fairy, called Whisper: she shows me every step of the way. I wish you would go too, little Dorel!”
“I think I will not, little Sylphid; for, if you have only a Whisper for a guide, I do not believe you will ever get there; but, oh, you are very, very beautiful!”
“If you will not go,” said Little One, “let me, at least, give you a few of my jewels: you can sell them for bread.”