The little girl had this peculiarity, that she was very loath to let herself be served by any one, but endeavored to do everything herself.  She was almost the earliest riser in the house; she washed herself carefully, and dressed without assistance; at night she was equally careful; she took special heed to pack up her clothes and belongings with her own hands, allowing no one, not even her mother, to meddle with her articles.  The mother humored her in this caprice, not thinking it of any consequence.  But what was her astonishment, when, happening one holiday to insist, regardless of Elfrida’s tears and screams, on dressing her out for a visit to the castle, she found upon her breast, suspended by a string, a piece of gold of a strange form, which she directly recognized as one of the sort she had seen in such abundance in the subterranean vaults!  The little thing was greatly frightened, and at last confessed that she had found it in the garden, and, as she liked it much, had kept it carefully; she at the same time prayed so earnestly and pressingly to have it back that Mary fastened it again in its former place, and, full of thoughts, went out with her in silence to the castle.

Sideward from the farm-house lay some offices for the storing of produce and implements; and behind these there was a little green, with an old arbor, now visited by no one, as, from the new arrangement of the buildings, it lay too far from the garden.  In this solitude Elfrida delighted most; and it occurred to nobody to interrupt her here, so that frequently her parents did not see her for half a day.  One afternoon her mother chanced to be in these buildings, seeking for some lost article among the lumber; and she noticed that a beam of light was coming in, through a chink in the wall.  She took a thought of looking through this aperture, and seeing what her child was busied with; and it happened that a stone was lying loose, and could be pushed aside, so that she obtained a view right into the arbor.  Elfrida was sitting there on a little bench, and beside her the well-known Zerina; and the children were playing and amusing each other, in the kindliest unity.  The Elf embraced her beautiful companion, and said mournfully:  “Ah! dear little creature, as I sport with thee, so have I sported with thy mother, when she was a child; but you mortals so soon grow tall and thoughtful!  It is very hard; wert thou but to be a child as long as I!”

“Willingly would I do it,” said Elfrida; “but they all say I shall come to sense and give over playing altogether; for I have great gifts, as they think, for growing wise.  Ah! and then I shall see thee no more, thou dear Zerina!  Yet it is with us as with the fruit-tree flowers—­how glorious the blossoming apple-tree, with its red bursting buds!  It looks so stately and broad; and every one that passes under it thinks surely something great will come of it; then the sun grows hot, and the buds come joyfully forth; but the wicked kernel is already there, which pushes off and casts away the fair flower’s dress; and now, in pain and waxing, it can do nothing more, but must grow to fruit in harvest.  An apple, to be sure, is pretty and refreshing; yet nothing to the blossom of spring.  So is it also with us mortals; I am not glad in the least at growing to be a tall girl.  Ah! could I but once visit you!”