“Ah,” said the sweet little voice again, “you had much better let me out.  I am not like those naughty creatures that have stings in their tails.  They are no brothers and sisters of mine, as you would see at once, if you were only to get a glimpse of me.  Come, come, my pretty Pandora!  I am sure you will let me out!”

And, indeed, there was a kind of cheerful witchery in the tone, that made it almost impossible to refuse anything which this little voice asked.  Pandora’s heart had insensibly grown lighter, at every word that came from within the box.  Epimetheus, too, though still in the corner, had turned half round, and seemed to be in rather better spirits than before.

“My dear Epimetheus,” cried Pandora, “have you heard this little voice?”

“Yes, to be sure I have,” answered he, but in no very good humour as yet.  “And what of it?”

“Shall I lift the lid again?” asked Pandora.

“Just as you please,” said Epimetheus.  “You have done so much mischief already, that perhaps you may as well do a little more.  One other Trouble, in such a swarm as you have set adrift about the world, can make no very great difference.”

“You might speak a little more kindly!” murmured Pandora, wiping her eyes.

“Ah, naughty boy!” cried the little voice within the box, in an arch and laughing tone.  “He knows he is longing to see me.  Come, my dear Pandora, lift up the lid.  I am in a great hurry to comfort you.  Only let me have some fresh air, and you shall soon see that matters are not quite so dismal as you think them!”

“Epimetheus,” exclaimed Pandora, “come what may, I am resolved to open the box!”

“And, as the lid seems very heavy,” cried Epimetheus, running across the room, “I will help you!”

So, with one consent, the two children again lifted the lid.  Out flew a sunny and smiling little personage, and Hovered about the room, throwing a light wherever she went.  Have you never made the sunshine dance into dark corners, by reflecting it from a bit of looking glass?  Well, so looked the winged cheerfulness of this fairy-like stranger, amid the gloom of the cottage.  She flew to Epimetheus, and laid the least touch of her finger on the inflamed spot where the Trouble had stung him, and immediately the anguish of it was gone.  Then she kissed Pandora on the forehead, and her hurt was cured likewise.

After performing these good offices, the bright stranger fluttered sportively over the children’s heads, and looked so sweetly at them, that they both began to think it not so very much amiss to have opened the box, since, otherwise, their cheery guest must have been kept a prisoner among those naughty imps with stings in their tails.

“Pray, who are you, beautiful creature?” inquired Pandora.

“I am to be called Hope!” answered the sunshiny figure.  “And because I am such a cheery little body, I was packed into the box, to make amends to the human race for that swarm of ugly Troubles, which was destined to be let loose among them.  Never fear I we shall do pretty well in spite of them all.”