s.

'She has sung the story of Bertalda, the little child we found so long
ago,' they said each to the other. 'It was even thus we found her in
the meadow, among the flowers.'

And Bertalda herself cried out in haste, 'Undine, Undine, you know my
parents, bring them to me, bring them to me, I entreat you!'

Then Undine, with tears that were tears of joy in her eyes, looked at
Bertalda, and said softly, 'They are here, your parents are here, dear
maiden, and when you see them you will rejoice. Well do I know the
tender care they will give to you, for it was even they who were my
own foster-parents.'

At a sign from Undine the old fisherman and his wife now stepped
forward from the corner in which their foster-child had bidden them
wait. It was she, Undine, who had sent for them that they might claim
Bertalda, who was, as Kuehleborn told her, their child.

The eyes of all the guests were fixed in astonishment on the humble
fisherman and his wife. Could these poor working folk be indeed the
parents of the maiden who stood before them, so cold, so full of
pride?

'Yes, here is your long-lost daughter,' said Undine softly, as the old
people stood bewildered before Bertalda. Then they, taking courage
from her words, threw their arms around their daughter. And as they
embraced her, tears streamed down their old worn faces, while they
thanked God for His goodness in giving them back their child.

But Bertalda tore herself from their arms. She, the child of a poor
old fisherman and his wife! She could not believe it. She did not wish
to believe it. In her pride she had hoped to be known as the daughter
of a beautiful princess, or even of a queen. Now in her anger she
believed that Undine had brought the fisherman and his wife to the
banquet only to crush her pride and to humble her before Huldbrand and
his guests.

The angry maiden took no pains to hide her rage. She reproached
Undine, Undine who had only wished to give her joy, nor had she any
words too bitter to fling at the fisherman and his wife.

And Undine, who had hoped to make her friend and her foster-parents
happy, listened sadly, now to Bertalda, now to the old fisherman and
his wife.

'Bertalda,' she cried, 'Bertalda, do not be angry. Have you not a
soul? Let it teach you not to grieve your parents more.'

But Bertalda only grew more angry, and the poor parents, as they heard
her scorn, more sad.

As for the guests, they were talking loudly, some bein