And soon from behind the trees came a line of beautiful girls, walking two by two, all very slowly; and at the head of the line, first of all, came the loveliest princess in the world, dressed softly in pure white, with a wreath of lilies on her long golden hair, which fell almost to the hem of her white gown.

She had so fair and tender a young face, and her large, soft eyes, yet looked so sorrowful, that Fairyfoot loved her in a moment, and he knelt on one knee, taking off his cap and bending his head until his own golden hair almost hid his face.

“Beautiful Princess Goldenhair, beautiful and sweet Princess, may I speak to you?” he said.

The Princess stopped and looked at him, and answered him softly.  It surprised her to see one so poorly dressed kneeling before her, in her palace gardens, among the brilliant flowers; but she always spoke softly to everyone.

“What is there that I can do for you, my friend?” she said.

“Beautiful Princess,” answered Fairyfoot, blushing, “I hope very much that I may be able to do something for you.”

“For me!” she exclaimed.  “Thank you, friend; what is it you can do?  Indeed, I need a help I am afraid no one can ever give me.”

“Gracious and fairest lady,” said Fairyfoot, “it is that help I think—­nay, I am sure—­that I bring to you.”

“Oh!” said the sweet Princess.  “You have a kind face and most true eyes, and when I look at you—­I do not know why it is, but I feel a little happier.  What is it you would say to me?”

Still kneeling before her, still bending his head modestly, and still blushing, Fairyfoot told his story.  He told her of his own sadness and loneliness, and of why he was considered so terrible a disgrace to his family.  He told her about the fountain of the nightingales and what he had heard there and how he had journeyed through the forests, and beyond it into her own country, to find her.  And while he told it, her beautiful face changed from red to white, and her hands closely clasped themselves together.

“Oh!” she said, when he had finished, “I know that this is true from the kind look in your eyes, and I shall be happy again.  And how can I thank you for being so good to a poor little princess whom you had never seen?”

“Only let me see you happy once more, most sweet Princess,” answered Fairyfoot, “and that will be all I desire—­only if, perhaps, I might once—­kiss your hand.”

She held out her hand to him with so lovely a look in her soft eyes that he felt happier than he had ever been before, even at the fairy dances.  This was a different kind of happiness.  Her hand was as white as a dove’s wing and as soft as a dove’s breast.  “Come,” she said, “let us go at once to the King.”

[Illustration:  FAIRYFOOT LOVED HER INA MOMENT, AND HE KNELT ON ONE KNEE.]

Within a few minutes the whole palace was in an uproar of excitement.  Preparations were made to go to the fountain of the nightingales immediately.  Remembering what the birds had said about not wishing to be disturbed, Fairyfoot asked the King to take only a small party.  So no one was to go but the King himself, the Princess, in a covered chair carried by two bearers, the Lord High Chamberlain, two Maids of Honour, and Fairyfoot.