she would
weep as she thought over her old life, and how different it was to the
one she was now leading. One day her lady saw her, and said, 'Catherine,
what is it? Why are you always weeping?' And then Catherine told her
story.

'I have got an idea,' exclaimed the lady. 'To-morrow, when you take the
bread to the mountain, you shall pray my Destiny to speak to yours, and
entreat her to leave you in peace. Perhaps something may come of it!'

At these words Catherine dried her eyes, and next morning, when she
climbed the mountain, she told all she had suffered, and cried, 'O
Destiny, my mistress, pray, I entreat you, of my Destiny that she may
leave me in peace.'

And Destiny answered, 'Oh, my poor girl, know you not your Destiny lies
buried under seven coverlids, and can hear nothing? But if you will come
to-morrow I will bring her with me.'

And after Catherine had gone her way her lady's Destiny went to find
her sister, and said to her, 'Dear sister, has not Catherine suffered
enough? It is surely time for her good days to begin?'

And the sister answered, 'To-morrow you shall bring her to me, and I
will give her something that may help her out of her need.'

The next morning Catherine set out earlier than usual for the mountain,
and her lady's Destiny took the girl by the hand and led her to her
sister, who lay under the seven coverlids. And her Destiny held out
to Catherine a ball of silk, saying, 'Keep this--it may be useful some
day;' then pulled the coverings over her head again.

But Catherine walked sadly down the hill, and went straight to her lady
and showed her the silken ball, which was the end of all her high hopes.

'What shall I do with it?' she asked. 'It is not worth sixpence, and it
is no good to me!'

'Take care of it,' replied her mistress. 'Who can tell how useful it may
be?'

A little while after this grand preparations were made for the king's
marriage, and all the tailors in the town were busy embroidering fine
clothes. The wedding garment was so beautiful nothing like it had ever
been seen before, but when it was almost finished the tailor found that
he had no more silk. The colour was very rare, and none could be found
like it, and the king made a proclamation that if anyone happened to
possess any they should bring it to the court, and he would give them a
large sum.

'Catherine!' exclaimed the lady, who had been to the tailors and seen
the wedding garment, 'your ball of silk i