"No, Curdie; my grandmother says I must let you go. Turn to the right when you get to the bottom of all the stairs, and in that way you will arrive safely at the hall where the great door is." "Oh! I don't doubt I can find my way--without you, princess, or your old grannie's thread either," said Curdie, quite rudely. "Oh, Curdie! Curdie!" "I wish I had gone home at once. I'm very much obliged to you, Irene, for getting me out of that hole, but I wish you hadn't made a fool of me afterward." He said this as he opened the door, which he left open, and, without another word, went down the stairs. Irene listened with dismay to his departing footsteps. Then turning again to the lady-- "What does it all mean, grandmother?" she sobbed, and burst into fresh tears. "It means, my love, that I did not mean to show myself. Curdie is not yet able to believe some things. Seeing is not believing--it is only seeing. You remember I told you that if Lootie were to see me, she would rub her eyes, forget the half she saw, and call the other half nonsense." "Yes; but I should have thought Curdie--" "You are right. Curdie is much farther on than Lootie, and you will see what will come of it. But in the meantime, you must be content, I say, to be misunderstood for a while. We are all very anxious to be understood, and it is very hard not to be. But there is one thing much more necessary." "What is that, grandmother?" "To understand other people." "Yes, grandmother. I must be fair--for if I'm not fair to other people, I'm not worth being understood myself I see. So as Curdie can't help it, I will not be vexed with him, but just wait." "There's my own dear child," said her grandmother, and pressed her close to her bosom. "Why weren't you in your workroom, when we came up, grandmother?" asked Irene, after a few moments' silence. "If I had been there, Curdie would have seen me well enough. But why should I be there rather than in this beautiful room?" "I thought you would be spinning." "I've nobody to spin for just at present. I never spin without knowing for whom I am spinning." "That reminds me--there is one thing that puzzles me," said the princess: "how are you to get the thread out of the mountain again? Surely you won't have to make another for me! That would be such a trouble!" The lady set her down, and rose, and went to the fire. Putting in her hand, she drew it out again, and held up the shining ball between her finger and thumb. "I've got it now, you see," she said, coming back to the princess, "all ready for you when you want it." Going to her cabinet, she laid it in the same drawer as before. "And here is your ring," she added, taking it from the little finger of her left hand, and putting it on the forefinger of Irene's right hand. "Oh, thank you, grandmother. I feel so safe now!"