you do yours. But
first let me remind you that if you had not put it off, you would have
found it not only far easier, but by and by quite pleasant work, much
more pleasant than you can imagine now; nor would you have found the
time go wearily: you would neither have slept in the day and let the
fire out, nor waked at night and heard the howling of the beast-birds.
More than all, you would have been glad to see me when I came back; and
would have leaped into my arms instead of standing there, looking so
ugly and foolish."

As she spoke, suddenly she held up before the princess a tiny mirror,
so clear that nobody looking into it could tell what it was made of, or
even see it at all--only the thing reflected in it. Rosamond saw a
child with dirty fat cheeks, greedy mouth, cowardly eyes--which, not
daring to look forward, seemed trying to hide behind an impertinent
nose--stooping shoulders, tangled hair, tattered clothes, and smears
and stains everywhere. That was what she had made herself. And to tell
the truth, she was shocked at the sight, and immediately began, in her
dirty heart, to lay the blame on the wise woman, because she had taken
her away from her nurses and her fine clothes; while all the time she
knew well enough that, close by the heather-bed, was the loveliest
little well, just big enough to wash in, the water of which was always
springing fresh from the ground, and running away through the wall.
Beside it lay the whitest of linen towels, with a comb made of
mother-of-pearl, and a brush of fir-needles, any one of which she had
been far too lazy to use. She dashed the glass out of the wise woman's
hand, and there it lay, broken into a thousand pieces!

Without a word, the wise woman stooped, and gathered the fragments--did
not leave searching until she had gathered the last atom, and she laid
them all carefully, one by one, in the fire, now blazing high on the
hearth. Then she stood up and looked at the princess, who had been
watching her sulkily.

"Rosamond," she said, with a countenance awful in its sternness, "until
you have cleansed this room--"

"She calls it a room!" sneered the princess to herself.

"You shall have no morsel to eat. You may drink of the well, but
nothing else you shall have. When the work I set you is done, you will
find food in the same place as before. I am going from home again; and
again I warn you not to leave the house."

"She calls it a house!--It's a good thing she's go