“How I love you!” said the Red-headed Match.
“And I you!” said the brown-headed little lady. “But they tell me your box is in the kitchen. That is very low.”
“Never mind,” said the lover; “I will come and live with you.”
So when the party was over the two went to live in the mother-of-pearl box in the drawing-room. And that was high life indeed.
But the Queen of the Wax Matches was very angry.
“She has married beneath her,” she cried; “off with her head!”
And sure enough at that moment the housemaid came to light the fire, and she struck the little white Princess Match against the bar of the grate, and her brown head fell off! The wooden Match did not want to live now his lady was beheaded, so he pressed forward into the housemaid’s hand—and she struck him and lit the fire with him; and what was left of him fell beside his white lady. So the two faithful lovers were buried together in the ashes.
E. Nesbit.