much he had loved her, and his grief was so great (though he
never neglected his duties) that his subjects called him Peridor
the Sorrowful. It seems hardly possible that any man should live
like Peridor for fifteen years plunged in such depth of grief,
and most likely he would have died too if it had not been for the
fairies.

The one comfort the poor King had was his son, Prince Saphir, who
was only three years old at the time of his mother's death, and
great care was given to his education. By the time he was
fifteen Saphir had learnt everything that a prince should know,
and he was, besides, charming and agreeable.

It was about this time that the fairies suddenly took fright lest
his love for his father should interfere with the plans they had
made for the young prince. So, to prevent this, they placed in a
pretty little room of which Saphir was very fond a little mirror
in a black frame, such as were often brought from Venice. The
Prince did not notice for some days that there was anything new
in the room, but at last he perceived it, and went up to look at
it more closely. What was his surprise to see reflected in the
mirror, not his own face, but that of a young girl as lovely as
the morning! And, better still, every movement of the girl, just
growing out of childhood, was also reflected in the wonderful
glass.

As might have been expected, the young Prince lost his heart
completely to the beautiful image, and it was impossible to get
him out of the room, so busy was he in watching the lovely
unknown. Certainly it was very delightful to be able to see her