CHAPTER 15, part 2
As she spoke she set her down, and Irene saw to her dismay that the lovely dress was covered with the mud of her fall on the mountain road.
But the lady stooped to the fire, and taking from it, by the stalk in her fingers, one of the burning roses, passed it once and again and a third time over the front of her dress; and when Irene looked, not a single stain was to be discovered.
'There!' said her grandmother, 'you won't mind coming to me now?' But Irene again hung back, eying the flaming rose which the lady held in her hand.
'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 was it, grandmother, that I saw your beautiful lamp--not the light of it only--but the great round silvery lamp itself, hanging alone in the great open air, high up? It was your lamp I saw--wasn't it?' 'Yes, my child--it was my lamp.' 'Then how was it? I don't see a window all round.' 'When I please I can make the lamp shine through the walls--shine so strong that it melts them away from before the sight, and shows itself as you saw it. But, as I told you, it is not everybody can see it.' 'How is it that I can, then? I'm sure I don't know.' 'It is a gift born with you. And one day I hope everybody will have it.' 'But how do you make it shine through the walls?' 'Ah! that you would not understand if I were to try ever so much to make you--not yet--not yet. But,' added the lady, rising, 'you must sit in my chair while I get you the present I have been preparing for you. I told you my spinning was for you. It is finished now, and I am going to fetch it. I have been keeping it warm under one of my brooding pigeons.'
