‘Dirty creatures!’ repeated the daughter, and nothing else could she say.
Then the woman saw that something evil had befallen her, and turned in her rage to her stepdaughter.
‘You are at the bottom of this, I know,’ she cried; and as the father was out of the way she took a stick and beat the girl till she screamed with pain and went to bed sobbing.
If the poor girl’s life had been miserable before, it was ten times worse now, for the moment her father’s back was turned the others teased and tormented her from morning till night; and their fury was increased by the sight of the wreath, which the doves had placed again on her head.
Things went on like this for some weeks, when, one day, as the king’s son was riding through the forest, he heard some strange birds singing more sweetly than birds had ever sung before. He tied his horse to a tree, and followed where the sound led him, and, to his surprise, he saw before him a beautiful girl chopping wood, with a wreath of pink rose-buds, out of which the singing came. Standing in the shelter of a tree, he watched her a long while, and then, hat in hand, he went up and spoke to her.
‘Fair maiden, who are you, and who gave you that wreath of singing roses?’ asked he, for the birds were so tiny that till you looked closely you never saw them.
‘I live in a hut on the edge of the forest,’ she answered, blushing, for she had never spoken to a prince before. ‘And as to the wreath, I know not how it came there, unless it may be the gift of some doves whom I fed when they were starving.’ The prince was delighted with this answer, which showed the goodness of the girl’s heart, and besides he had fallen in love with her beauty, and would not be content till she promised to return with him to the palace, and become his bride. The old king was naturally disappointed at his son’s choice of a wife, as he wished him to marry a neighbouring princess; but as from his birth the prince had always done exactly as he liked, nothing was said and a splendid wedding feast was got ready.
The day after her marriage the bride sent a messenger, bearing handsome presents to her father, and telling him of the good fortune which had befallen her. As may be imagined, the stepmother and her daughter were so filled with envy that they grew quite ill, and had to take to their beds, and nobody would have been sorry if they had never got up again; but that did not happen. At length, however, they began to feel better, for the mother invented a plan by which she could be revenged on the girl who had never done her any harm.