“Dear mother,” said Proserpina, “I shall be very lonely while you are away.  May I not run down to the shore, and ask some of the sea nymphs to come up out of the waves and play with me?”

“Yes, child,” answered Mother Ceres.  “The sea nymphs are good creatures, and will never lead you into any harm.  But you must take care not to stray away from them, nor go wandering about the fields by yourself.  Young girls, without their mothers to take care of them, are very apt to get into mischief.”

The child promised to be as prudent as if she were a grown-up woman, and, by the time the winged dragons had whirled the car out of sight, she was already on the shore, calling to the sea nymphs to come and play with her.  They knew Proserpina’s voice, and were not long in showing their glistening faces and sea-green hair above the water, at the bottom of which was their home.  They brought along with them a great many beautiful shells; and, sitting down on the moist sand, where the surf wave broke over them, they busied themselves in making a necklace, which they hung round Proserpina’s neck.  By way of showing her gratitude, the child besought them to go with her a little way into the fields, so that they might gather abundance of flowers, with which she would make each of her kind playmates a wreath.

“Oh, no, dear Proserpina,” cried the sea nymphs; “we dare not go with you upon the dry land.  We are apt to grow faint, unless at every breath we can snuff up the salt breeze of the ocean.  And don’t you see how careful we are to let the surf wave break over us every moment or two, so as to keep ourselves comfortably moist?  If it were not for that, we should soon look like bunches of uprooted seaweed dried in the sun.”

“It is a great pity,” said Proserpina.  “But do you wait for me here, and I will run and gather my apron full of flowers, and be back again before the surf wave has broken ten times over you.  I long to make you some wreaths that shall be as lovely as this necklace of many-coloured shells.”

“We will wait, then,” answered the sea nymphs.  “But while you are gone, we may as well lie down on a bank of soft sponge, under the water.  The air to-day is a little too dry for our comfort.  But we will pop up our heads every few minutes to see if you are coming.”

The young Proserpina ran quickly to a spot where, only the day before, she had seen a great many flowers.  These, however, were now a little past their bloom; and wishing to give her friends the freshest and loveliest blossoms, she strayed farther into the fields, and found some that made her scream with delight.  Never had she met with such exquisite flowers before—­violets, so large and fragrant—­roses, with so rich and delicate a blush—­such superb hyacinths and such aromatic pinks—­and many others, some of which seemed to be of new shapes and colours.  Two or three times, moreover, she could not help thinking that a tuft of most splendid flowers had suddenly