He led her into a large room, and they sat down upon a sofa.
"We will wait here until my daughter comes," he said.
Soon the door opened, and a beautiful little girl, about as large as Paulina, came toward them. She looked puzzled when she saw the rough-looking man with the little girl. She went close to the stranger and looked into his face.
"It is my father!" she cried, and threw her arms around his neck.
"But why are you dressed like a peasant? Has there been an accident? And who is this little stranger?"
The man took her on his lap and told her how his sleigh had been overturned in the storm, and how he had found his way to a peasant's hut, where they had given him dry clothes to put on, and how he had started out alone to find his way through the forest; and how he was nearly perishing with cold and hunger when this little girl had rescued him, and how, if it had not been for her, he would have died in the snow in the forest. He told her how little Paulina was on her way to Siberia to find her father, and how they went to the woodsman's hut where a servant had found him, and how he had planned for the sleigh to meet them on the other side of the forest.
"O," Paulina interrupted him, "then there was somebody talking with you when we were preparing the evening meal?"
"Yes, and everything came out just as I had planned. And do you know, little daughter, this Paulina would not let me put my own scarf around my neck. She thought that I was a thief. She is an honest little girl. But she will not tell me her name. She does not trust me."
"But why should I trust you, when you will not tell me who you are, or anything about yourself?" Paulina asked.
"Do trust my father, Paulina. I'm sure he can help you. He will tell you who he is soon, I know," the beautiful little girl said.