"I am sorry,"--he said,--"won't you forgive me? I will never frighten you
so again. I did not mean to do it."
"Why," she answered, "I have to forgive myself as well as you. You see, I
frightened myself quite as much as you frightened me. I can't feel that
you were really to blame--any more than I. I have tried, but I can't--so I
came back. Only, I--I must never dance for you again, must I?"
The man could not answer.
As though fully reassured, and quite satisfied to take his answer for
granted, she sprang over the tiny stream at her feet, and came to him
across the glade, holding out her arms full of blossoms. "See," she said
with a smile, "I have brought you the last one of the three gifts."
Gracefully, she knelt and placed the flowers on the ground, beside his box
of colors.
Deeply moved by her honesty and by her simple trust in him; and charmed by
the air of quiet, natural dignity with which she spoke of her gifts; the
artist tried to thank her.
"And now," he added, "the meaning--tell me the meaning of your gifts. You
promised--you remember--that you would read the pretty riddle, when you
came again."
She laughed merrily. "And haven't you guessed the meaning?" she said in
her teasing mood.
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