Little One looked at her soiled dress; but the stains had disappeared; and, most wonderful! all the jewels she had worn on her neck and arms, and in her girdle, were there yet, burning with increased brilliancy. Little One gazed again, and counted to see if any were missing. Yes: two she had sold for bread were not there. It was the jewels she had given away which had come back in some mysterious manner and were more resplendent than before.
“Ah!” said she, with a beaming smile, “now I know what it means when they say, ‘All you give, you will carry with you.’ It was delightful to scatter my gems by the wayside; but I did not think they would all be given back to me when I reached home!”
Then, intwining arms with a bright sylphid, she flew with her over the gardens in a trance of delight.
“Here,” said Little One, “is my own dear garden. I remember the border and the paths right well; but it never bore such golden fruit, it never glowed with such beautiful flowers.”
“Your fairy, the one you call Whisper, has taken care of it for your sake,” said the sister sylphid. “Do you know that those flowers, and those trees with fruit like ‘bonny beaten gold,’ have been watered by your tears, Little One? It is in this way they have attained their matchless beauty and grace.”
“My tears, little sister?”
“Yes, your tears. Every one you shed upon earth, your fairy most carefully preserved; and see what wonders have been wrought!”
“If I had known that,” said Little One clapping her hands, “I would have been glad of all my troubles! I would have smiled through my tears!”
Now I know no more than I have told of this story of the Lost Sylphid. I tell the tale as ’twas told to me; and I wish, with all my heart, it were true.