She went close to the stranger
and looked into his face.
"It _is_ my father!" she cried, and threw her arms around his neck.
"But why are you dressed like a peasant? Has there been an accident?
And who is this little stranger?"
The man took her on his lap and told her how his sleigh had been
overturned in the storm, and how he had found his way to a peasant's
hut, where they had given him dry clothes to put on, and how he had
started out alone to find his way through the forest; and how he was
nearly perishing with cold and hunger when this little girl had
rescued him, and how, if it had not been for her, he would have died
in the snow in the forest. He told her how little Paulina was on her
way to Siberia to find her father, and how they went to the woodsman's
hut where a servant had found him, and how he had planned for the
sleigh to meet them on the other side of the forest.
"O," Paulina interrupted him, "then there was somebody talking with
you when we were preparing the evening meal?"
"Yes, and everything came out just as I had planned. And do you know,
little daughter, this Paulina would not let me put my own scarf around
my neck. She thought that I was a thief. She is an honest little girl.
But she will not tell me her name. She does not trust me."
"But why should I trust you, when you will not tell me who you are, or
anything about yourself?" Paulina asked.
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