determined to go to this
wonderful palace, and her sisters were not sorry, for they regarded her
good qualities with deep jealousy.

The merchant was so taken up with the sorrow of losing his daughter that
he forgot all about the box which he had filled with gold. To his
astonishment, when he had shut the door of his room and was about to
retire for the night, there it was at the side of his bed! He decided
not to tell his children that he had become so rich, for his elder
daughters would have wanted to go back to town, and he had resolved to
die in the country. He did confide his secret to Beauty, however, and
the latter told him that during his absence they had entertained some
visitors, amongst whom were two admirers of her sisters. She begged her
father to let them marry; for she was of such a sweet nature that she
loved them, and forgave them with all her heart the evil they had done
her.

When Beauty set off with her father the two heartless girls rubbed their
eyes with an onion, so as to seem tearful; but her brothers wept in
reality, as did also the merchant. Beauty alone did not cry, because she
did not want to add to their sorrow.

The horse took the road to the palace, and by evening they espied it,
all lit up as before. An empty stable awaited the nag, and when the good
merchant and his daughter entered the great hall, they found there a
table magnificently laid for two people. The merchant had not the heart
to eat, but Beauty, forcing herself to appear calm, sat down and served
him. Since the Beast had provided such splendid fare, she thought to
herself, he must presumably be anxious to fatten her up before eating
her.

When they had finished supper they heard a terrible noise. With tears
the merchant bade farewell to his daughter, for he knew it was the
Beast. Beauty herself could not help trembling at the awful apparition,
but she did her best to compose herself. The Beast asked her if she had
come of her own free will, and she timidly answered that such was the
case.

'You are indeed kind,' said the Beast, 'and I am much obliged to you.
You, my good man, will depart to-morrow morning, and you must not think
of coming back again. Good-bye, Beauty!'

'Good-bye, Beast!' she answered.

Thereupon the monster suddenly disappeared.

'Daughter,' said the merchant, embracing Beauty, 'I am nearly dead with
fright. Let me be the one to stay here!'

'No, father,' said Beauty, firmly, 'you must go to-morr