ive chariot of gold, drawn by a hundred and fifty larks.
She was clothed with a robe of butterflies' wings, of the most brilliant
colors while from her shoulders fell a mantle of network of diamonds,
which trailed ten feet behind her and it was so fine in texture that it
was light as gauze. Her hair, glittering like tissue of gold, was
ornamented by a crown of carbuncles more brilliant than the sun; each of
her slippers was carved from a single ruby and her beautiful face, soft,
yet gay, breathed contentment. She fixed upon Violette a most
affectionate regard.

"You wish it, then, my daughter?" said she.

"Madam," cried Ourson, falling at her feet, "deign to listen to me. You,
who have loaded me with undeserved benefits--you, who have inspired me
with boundless gratitude--you, good and just--will you execute the mad
wish of my dear Violette? Will you make my whole life wretched by
forcing me to accept this sacrifice? No, no, charming and humane fairy,
you could not, you will not do it!"

Whilst Ourson was thus supplicating, the fairy gave Violette a light
touch with her wand of pearl and Ourson another--then said:--

"Let it be according to the wish of your heart, my daughter. Let it be
contrary to your ardent desires, my son."

At the same moment, the face, arms and the whole body of the lovely
young girl were covered with the long hair which Ourson had worn, and
Ourson appeared with a white smooth skin, which set off his extreme
beauty to advantage.

Violette gazed at him with admiration, while he, his eyes cast down and
full of tears, dared not look at his poor Violette, so horribly
metamorphosed. At last he looked up, threw himself in her arms, and they
wept together.

Ourson was marvellously handsome. Violette was, as Ourson had been,
without form, without beauty, but not ugly. When Violette raised her
head and looked at Agnella, the latter extended her hands towards her,
and said:--

"Thanks, my daughter, my noble, generous child."

"Mother," said Violette, in low voice, "do you love me still?"

"Do I love you, my cherished child? Yes, a hundred times, a thousand
times more than ever before."

"Violette," said Ourson, "never fear being ugly in our eyes. To my
eyes, you are a hundred times more beautiful than when clothed with all
your loveliness. To me you are a sister--a friend incomparable. You will
always be the companion of my life, the ideal of my heart."

THE COMBAT

Violette was abo