Nothing more beautiful could well have been imagined than the day Lady Idleways, Laura, and Kathie started for Idleways Castle. Towards morning there had been a shower, which freshened every leaf, and gave a glittering touch to every flower. It was a joyous, glad day, when even the birds seemed to be happier; and when Laura bade farewell to her kind friends, sorry as she was to leave them, she could not be unhappy.

The Motherkin and Grim escorted them through their woods and beyond the door in the rock where Laura had first seen the fairy. At this point they exchanged good wishes and made their final adieux, the Motherkin never venturing out of the confines of the Forest of Pines—at least to mortal vision she never went farther.

As they reached the limit of the woods, where Lady Idleways's carriage was waiting, Laura thought she saw a familiar object partly hiding behind a bush of sweetbrier. Kathie's eyes also turned in the same direction, and she whispered to Laura, "Is that the Herb Elf, or is it only a rabbit?"

"It is the elf. Look at his queue. I wonder what he wants? He seems to be afraid of being noticed. Look! he is waving his cap to us, and then he retreats behind the bush again."

"What is it detains you, children?" asked Lady Idleways; for both Kathie and Laura lingered a little.

"The Herb Elf, mamma," whispered Laura.

"I see nothing but a rabbit, my dear."

"But it is the elf, mamma. May I go speak to him? He may want to say good-bye."

"Are you not afraid of his mischievous tricks?"

"He would not dare do any harm to me with you so near, mamma."

"Go, then; but do not let him urge you away out of my sight." Laura ran to the bush of sweetbrier behind which the elf was hiding, at which he capered and frisked about as if highly pleased.

"So you are going home, are you?" he asked.

"Yes, I am going, and Kathie is going with me. How could you let those mosquitoes torment us so? The bites hurt yet. Look!" and she held out a swollen finger.

At this the elf fumbled in his pockets, and drew out a peculiar-looking ring. It seemed to be cut out of coral.

"There," said he, "this will make you believe me somewhat your friend. Let me put it on that finger. See, the swelling goes down. While you wear this, no insect can ever trouble you. Had you been ugly with me, I should not have given you this. But you can have your choice between it and your own blue ring. Which do you prefer?"

"Oh, yours, Mr. Elf, of course. Why, it's a real treasure."

"Of course it is; it came from China. Will you ever come to these woods again?"

"I hope so. Good-bye, Mr. Elf, good-bye."

"Good-bye. You are a real little lady. Good-bye." And with any number of twists and jerks and queer contortions, the rabbit-skin and its owner disappeared in the forest.

Lady Idleways and Kathie looked at the elf's gift, and pronounced it a very useful and pretty trinket. Then they all got in the carriage, and turned their thoughts towards home.

It was late when they reached the castle; for the coachman lost his way, and they were detained. Lights were gleaming from all the windows, and as they neared the broad steps a delightful strain of music welcomed their approach. Servants were waiting to greet them, and Laura was quite overwhelmed with all their kind attentions. She could not but remember how coldly and indifferently she had been in the habit of receiving kindness before she left home; for, child that she was, she had learned to think and reflect. Thrown upon her own efforts to make herself comfortable and happy, and even to sustain her own life, she had grown out of the listless, dissatisfied, unhappy child into a rational and useful being, grateful and disposed to make others happy.

"Oh, Miss Laura, what a tall, lovely girl you are!" exclaimed Nannette, looking at her affectionately and turning her around. "Who dresses you, dear? and who brushes your beautiful hair? I have been lost without you."

"I am my own maid, Nannette, and you will have to wait upon mamma in future, or knit stockings for all the poor people. Do I not look well dressed? Ah! here is my dear Fido. What a great big creature he has become! And, oh! my dear Nannette, how are all the birds? and where is Polly?

"Welcome! welcome!" screamed Polly, in reply.

Laura took Kathie about from room to room till the child was almost bewildered; but so modest and refined was she by nature, that the grandeur did not dazzle her. She was just the same simple, quiet child of the woods, with a heart-sick and homesick longing to return to her own poor home; and it was not many days before Laura and Lady Idleways saw that the little wood-violet was drooping.

Kathie had been allowed a room next to Laura's, and each day Lady Idleways gave them lessons together. They walked, they rode, they gathered flowers. Kathie was teaching Laura to knit, and Laura was teaching Kathie many little nice ways about herself; and Laura was all brightness and energy—a veritable sunbeam, as all in the castle said; but Kathie grew quieter and sadder, and one day Laura found her unable to rise from her bed. In alarm she went to her mother.

"Mamma, Kathie is ill; her head is hot, and she says strange things to me, and she moans as if in pain."

Lady Idleways found the child truly ill, and she had to forbid Laura's even seeing her, for she knew not but that her fever might prove to be contagious.

Nannette shook her head wisely, and took her place at the bedside, as if now she had indeed some thing to occupy her.

Laura was lost without her companion, but made fresh bouquets and sent them in every morning to her, and was always ready at the end of the long hall to wait upon Nannette, that she might not leave her charge a moment. Lady Idleways sent for a physician, and his face looked grave when he came from Kathie's bedside.

"What is it, mamma?" asked Laura, as, with her books and Fido, she sat in the embrasure of the large hall window, waiting for the doctor's decision.

"It is a low fever, my darling, and we must do something to cheer the child and make her hopeful. I am going now to write to your papa, to see if he can get permission for Kathie's father to return. Meanwhile we will get their cottage in order, cleaned, and made comfortable with all that they need, and then we will take the little wild bird back to its nest. These woodland creatures cannot live away from their haunts. Do you understand, my Laura?"

"Yes, mamma; but I am so sorry."

"So am I, dear child."

So it was decided. The letter was written, and a favorable answer came. Day after day went by, and yet Kathie could only take a little soup and a little wine, and Laura was allowed to go beneath her window and talk to her a while. And Lady Idleways was very busy, driving out to the forest every day with a donkey-cart laden with many useful goods, going and returning with work-people, and coming home to bid Laura hope that Kathie would soon be very well and happy again.