happier than the possession of a hundred such palaces as this.'
'Ah,' said Proserpina, 'you should have tried to make me like you before carrying me off. And the best thing you can now do is to let me go again. Then I might remember you sometimes, and think that you were as kind as you knew how to be. Perhaps, too, one day or other, I might come back, and pay you a visit.'
'No, no,' answered Pluto, with his gloomy smile, 'I will not trust you for that. You are too fond of living in the broad daylight, and gathering flowers. What an idle and childish taste that is! Are not these gems, which I have ordered to be dug for you, and which are richer than any in my crown—are they not prettier than a violet?'
'Not half so pretty,' said Proserpina, snatching the gems from Pluto's hand, and flinging them to the other end of the hall. 'O my sweet violets, shall I never see you again?'
And then she burst into tears. But young people's tears have very little saltness or acidity in them, and do not inflame the eyes so much as those of grown persons; so that it is not to be wondered at if, a few moments afterwards, Proserpina was sporting through the hall almost as merrily as she and the four sea nymphs had sported along the edge of the surf wave. King Pluto gazed after her, and wished that he, too, was a child. And little Proserpina, when she
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