good, however, for they grew crueller and crueller every day, only because Maruša was growing prettier and Holena uglier every day.
At last the mother thought: "Why should I keep a pretty stepdaughter in my house? When the lads come courting here, they will fall in love with Maruša and they won't look at Holena."
From that moment the stepmother and her daughter were constantly scheming how to get rid of poor Maruša. They starved her and they beat her. But she bore it all, and in spite of all she kept on growing prettier every day. They invented torments that the cruellest of men would never have thought of.
One day—it was in the middle of January—Holena felt a longing for the scent of violets.
"Go, Maruša, and get me some violets from the forest; I want to wear them at my waist and to smell them," she said to her sister.
"Great heavens! sister. What a strange notion! Who ever heard of violets growing under the snow?" said poor Maruša.
"You wretched tatterdemalion! how dare you argue when I tell you to do something? Off you go at once, and if you don't bring
