“Don’t get so excited!” said Dino, putting back the mirror. “But I am awfully glad to know a way to help you. I shall do it every day, but you must promise to come regularly. I am sure you’ll forget everything else that worries you, and in the end you’ll forget about it and so be gay again.” Cornelli shook her head. “No, you can’t prevent it from getting worse,” she said, covering her forehead with more hair. However, she took Dino’s hand as a promise to come again, for she had enjoyed her visit very much and was looking forward to repeating it. From that day on, Cornelli wandered over to Martha’s little house as she had always done. The old woman cried with joy when she heard the child’s merry laughter after all that time, for it had been a great grief to her to see the bright child so terribly changed. She loved to leave the children by themselves, for then they always seemed to enjoy themselves best. From time to time she heard their happy laughter; it thrilled her with joy, and she never wanted to interrupt it. She had seen how Cornelli behaved when listening to one of Dino’s stories; the little girl was as eager as if she were experiencing it all herself. In her burning zeal she would fling back her hair, her eyes would sparkle as in days gone by, and a brightly laughing face would regard the story teller. Everything else was forgotten for the time; but if something reminded Cornelli of her own life and troubles, all sunshine was suddenly gone from her face, her forehead clouded up, and the horrible sticky hair was again hanging over her eyes. So Martha always tried to leave the children undisturbed. She had many hopes for Cornelli on account of this daily intercourse with the charming boy, whose clear brow was never troubled and who could so quickly drive away the clouds from his friend’s face. As soon as Cornelli left the little house and was approaching her own garden, everything changed back to the old condition. Martha, looking after the child, could always see the fearful looking hair that so strangely disfigured the little girl’s pretty face. Then she would sigh deeply and would say to herself: It seems like a disease, but who can help her? Oh, if our blessed lady had seen her child so terribly disfigured! Cornelli was very much surprised when she found that Saturday evening had come again, for the last two weeks had flown by very fast. She ran through the garden. Under the plum tree lay the last fully ripened dark gold plums. Cornelli picked them up; they were really splendid, but they had given her no pleasure that year. She took them with her and put them on Martha’s table. “Oh, what fine yellow plums! I am sure they taste as sweet as honey,” exclaimed Dino. “Are they from your garden? When the sun shines on them in the morning, all the branches seem to sparkle with reddish gold like a Christmas tree.” “Yes, they are from the tree. Do you want to eat them?” asked Cornelli.