“You’re not afraid of the rose—are you?” she said, about to throw it on the hearth again.
“Oh! don’t, please!” cried Irene. “Won’t you hold it to my frock and my hands and my face? And I’m afraid my feet and my knees want it too.”
“No,” answered her grandmother, smiling a little sadly, as she threw the rose from her; “it is too hot for you yet. It would set your frock in a flame. Besides, I don’t want to make you clean tonight. I want your nurse and the rest of the people to see you as you are, for you will have to tell them how you ran away for fear of the long-legged cat. I should like to wash you, but they would not believe you then. Do you see that bath behind you?”
The princess looked, and saw a large oval tub of silver, shining brilliantly in the light of the wonderful lamp.
“Go and look into it,” said the lady.
Irene went, and came back very silent with her eyes shining.
“What did you see?” asked her grandmother.
“The sky, and the moon and the stars,” she answered. “It looked as if there was no bottom to it.”
The lady smiled a pleased satisfied smile, and was silent also for a few moments. Then she said:
“Any time you want a bath, come to me. I know you have a bath every morning, but sometimes you want one at night, too.”
“Thank you, grandmother; I will—I will indeed,” answered Irene, and was again silent for some moments thinking. Then she said: “How