“Pay me what her clothes cost,” cried the ropedancer at last, “and you may take her.”

As soon as all was quiet, Wilhelm went to look for Mignon; for she now belonged to him.  But he could not find her, and it was not until the ropedancers had left the town that she came to him.

“Where have you been?” asked Wilhelm in his kindest tones; but the child did not speak.

“You are to live with me now, and you must be a good child,” he said.

“I will try,” said Mignon gently.

From that time she tried to do all that she could for Wilhelm and his friends.  She would let no one wait on him but herself.  She was often seen going to a basin of water to wash from her face the paint with which the ropedancers had red-dened her cheeks:  indeed, she nearly rubbed off the skin in trying to wash away its fine brown tint, which she thought was some deep dye.

Mignon grew more lovely every day.  She never walked up and down the stairs, but jumped.  She would spring along by the railing, and before you knew it, would be sitting quietly above on the landing.

To each one she would speak in a different way.  To Wilhelm it was with her arms crossed upon her breast.  Often for a whole day she would not say one word, and yet in waiting upon Wilhelm she never tired.

One night he came home very weary and sad.  Mignon was waiting for him.  She carried the light before him up-stairs.  She set the light down upon the table, and in a little while she asked him if she might dance.

“It might ease your heart a little,” she said.

Wilhelm, to please her, told her that she might.

Then she brought a little carpet, and spread it upon the floor.  At each corner she placed a candle, and on the carpet she put a number of eggs.  She arranged the eggs in the form of certain figures.  When this was done, she called to a man who was waiting with a violin.  She tied a band about her eyes, and then the dancing began.

[Illustration:  “And then the dancing began.”]

How lightly, quickly, nimbly, wonderfully, she moved!  She skipped so fast among the eggs, she trod so closely beside them, that you would have thought she must crush them all.  But not one of them did she touch.  With all kinds of steps she passed among them.  Not one of them was moved from its place.

Wilhelm forgot all his cares.  He watched every motion of the child.  He almost forgot who and where he was.

When the dance was ended, Mignon rolled the eggs together with her foot into a little heap.  Not one was left behind, not one was harmed.  Then she took the band from her eyes, and made a little bow.

Wilhelm thanked her for showing him a dance that was so wonderful and pretty.  He praised her, petted her, and hoped that she had not tired herself too much.

When she had gone from the room, the man with the violin told Wilhelm of the care she had taken to teach him the music of the dance.  He told how she had sung it to him over and over again.  He told how she had even wished to pay him with her own money for learning to play it for her.