Anielka was most anxious to know something of her adopted parents.  Once, after the old prince had heard her singing, he asked her with great kindness about her home.  She replied, that she was an orphan, and had been taken by force from those who had so kindly supplied the place of parents, Her apparent attachment to the old bee-keeper and his wife so pleased the prince, that he said, “You are a good child.  Anielka, and to-morrow I will send you to visit them.  You shall take them some presents.”

Anielka, overpowered with gratitude, threw herself at the feet of the prince.  She dreamed all night of the happiness that was in store for her, and the joy of the poor, forsaken, old people; and when the next morning she set off, she could scarcely restrain her impatience.  At last they approached the cabin; she saw the forest, with its tall trees, and the meadows covered with flowers.  She leaped from the carriage, that she might be nearer these trees and flowers, every one of which she seemed to recognize.  The weather was beautiful.  She breathed with avidity the pure air which, in imagination, brought to her the kisses and caresses of her poor father!  Her foster-father was, doubtless, occupied with his bees; but his wife?

Anielka opened the door of the cabin; all was silent and deserted.  The arm-chair on which the poor old woman used to sit, was overturned in a corner.  Anielka was chilled by a fearful presentiment.  She went with a slow step toward the bee-hives; there she saw a little boy tending the bees, whilst the old man was stretched on the ground beside him.  The rays of the sun, falling on his pale and sickly face, showed that he was very ill.  Anielka stooped down over him, and said, “It is I, it is Anielka, your own Anielka, who always loves you.”

The old man raised his head, gazed upon her with a ghastly smile, and took off his cap.

“And my good old mother, where is she?” Anielka asked.

“She is dead!” answered the old man, and falling back he began laughing idiotically.  Anielka wept.  She gazed earnestly on the worn frame, the pale and wrinkled cheeks, it which scarcely a sign of life could be perceived; it seemed to her that he had suddenly fallen asleep, and not wishing to disturb him, she went to the carriage for the presents.  When she returned, she took his hand.  It was cold.  The poor old bee-keeper had breathed his last!

Anielka was carried almost senseless back to the carriage, which quickly returned with her to the castle.  There she revived a little; but the recollection that she was now quite alone in the world, almost drove her to despair.

Her master’s wedding and the journey to Florence were a dream to her.  Though the strange sights of a strange city slowly restored her perceptions, they did not her cheerfulness.  She felt as if she could no longer endure the misery of her life; she prayed to die.

“Why are you so unhappy?” said the Count Leon kindly to her, one day.