worst fault.'

The years passed like the wind for Elsa, and she grew into a
lovely woman, with a knowledge of many things that she would
never have learned in her native village; but Kisika was still
the same young girl that she had been on the day of her first
meeting with Elsa. Each morning they both worked for an hour at
reading and writing, as they had always done, and Elsa was
anxious to learn all she could, but Kisika much preferred
childish games to anything else. If the humour seized her, she
would fling aside her tasks, take her treasure box, and go off to
play in the sea, where no harm ever came to her.

'What a pity,' she would often say to Elsa, 'that you have grown
so big, you cannot play with me any more.'

Nine years slipped away in this manner, when one day the lady
called Elsa into her room. Elsa was surprised at the summons,
for it was unusual, and her heart sank, for she feared some evil
threatened her. As she crossed the threshold, she saw that the
lady's cheeks were flushed, and her eyes full of tears, which she
dried hastily, as if she would conceal them from the girl.
'Dearest child,' she began, 'the time has come when we must
part.'

'Part?' cried Elsa, burying her head in the lady's lap. 'No,
dear lady, that can never be till death parts us. You once
opened your arms to me; you cannot thrust me away now.'

'Ah, be quiet, child,' replied the lady; 'you do not know what I