On their way they passed a white cottage, behind a green fence
with a white gate; the gate stood hospitably open. They entered
and found themselves in a garden where peonies and colombines grew.
The mother noticed that the curtains in the lower storey were all
drawn before the windows, and that all the curtains were white. But
one of the attic windows stood open and a white hand appeared above
the pots of touch-me-nots. It waved a little white handkerchief,
as if it were waving a last farewell to one who was going on a long
journey.

They walked as far as the cottage; in the high grass lay a wreath
of myrtle and white roses. But it was too big for a bridal wreath.

They went through the front door and the mother called out if
anybody were in? As there was no reply they went into the parlour.
On the floor, surrounded by a whole forest of flowers, stood a black
coffin with silver feet and in the coffin lay a young girl with a
bridal crown on her head.

The walls of the room were made of new pinewood and only varnished
with oil, so that all the knots were visible. And the knots in
the knot-holes looked for all the world like so many eyes.

"Oh! Just look at all the eyes, mammy," exclaimed the little girl.

Yes, there were eyes of every description; big eyes, eloquent eyes,
grave eyes; little shining baby eyes, with a lurking smile in the
corner; wicked eyes, which showed too much white; frank and candid
eyes, which looked one straight into the heart; and, over there,