Imagine her surprise when she came upon a door on which were the words
'Beauty's Room'! She quickly opened this door, and was dazzled by the
magnificence of the appointments within. 'They are evidently anxious
that I should not be dull,' she murmured, as she caught sight of a
large bookcase, a harpsichord, and several volumes of music. A moment
later another thought crossed her mind. 'If I had only a day to spend
here,' she reflected, 'such provision would surely not have been made
for me.' This notion gave her fresh courage. She opened the bookcase, and found a
book in which was written, in letters of gold:

'Ask for anything you wish: you are mistress of all here.' 'Alas!' she said with a sigh, 'my only wish is to see my poor father,
and to know what he is doing.' As she said this to herself she glanced at a large mirror. Imagine her
astonishment when she perceived her home reflected in it, and saw her
father just approaching. Sorrow was written on his face; but when her
sisters came to meet him it was impossible not to detect, despite the
grimaces with which they tried to simulate grief, the satisfaction they
felt at the loss of their sister. In a moment the vision faded away, yet
Beauty could not but think that the Beast was very kind, and that she
had nothing much to fear from him. At midday she found the table laid, and during her meal she enjoyed an
excellent concert, though the performers were invisible. But in the
evening, as she was about to sit down at the table, she heard the noise
made by the Beast, and quaked in spite of herself. 'Beauty,' said the monster to her, 'may I watch you have your supper?' 'You are master here,' said the trembling Beauty. 'Not so,' replied the Beast; 'it is you who are mistress; you have only
to tell me to go, if my presence annoys you, and I will go immediately. Tell me, now, do you not consider me very ugly?' 'I do,' said Beauty, 'since I must speak the truth; but I think you are
also very kind.' 'It is as you say,' said the monster; 'and in addition to being ugly, I
lack intelligence. As I am well aware, I am a mere beast.' 'It is not the way with stupid people,' answered Beauty, 'to admit a
lack of intelligence. Fools never realise it.' 'Sup well, Beauty,' said the monster, 'and try to banish dulness from
your home--for all about you is yours, and I should be sorry to think
you were not happy.' 'You are indeed kind,' said Beauty. 'With one thing, I must own, I am
well pleased, and that is your kind heart. When I think of that you no
longer seem to be ugly.' 'Oh yes,' answered the Beast, 'I have a good heart, right enough, but I
am a monster.' 'There are many men,' said Beauty, 'who make worse monsters than you,
and I prefer you, notwithstanding your looks, to those who under the
semblance of men hide false, corrupt, and ungrateful hearts.' The Beast replied that if only he had a grain of wit he would compliment
her in the grand style by way of thanks; but that being so stupid he
could only say he was much obliged. Beauty ate with a good appetite, for she now had scarcely any fear of
the Beast. But she nearly died of fright when he put this question to
her:

'Beauty, will you be my wife?' For some time she did not answer, fearing lest she might anger the
monster by her refusal. She summoned up courage at last to say, rather
fearfully, 'No, Beast!' The poor monster gave forth so terrible a sigh that the noise of it went
whistling through the whole palace. But to Beauty's speedy relief the
Beast sadly took his leave and left the room, turning several times as
he did so to look once more at her. Left alone, Beauty was moved by
great compassion for this poor Beast. 'What a pity he is so ugly,' she
said, 'for he is so good.' Beauty passed three months in the palace quietly enough. Every evening
the Beast paid her a visit, and entertained her at supper by a display
of much good sense, if not with what the world calls wit. And every day
Beauty was made aware of fresh kindnesses on the part of the monster. Through seeing him often she had become accustomed to his ugliness, and
far from dreading the moment of his visit, she frequently looked at her
watch to see if it was nine o'clock, the hour when the Beast always
appeared. One thing alone troubled Beauty; every evening, before retiring to bed,
the monster asked her if she would be his wife, and seemed overwhelmed
with grief when she refused. One day she said to him:

'You distress me, Beast. I wish I could marry you, but I cannot deceive
you by allowing you to believe that that can ever be. I will always be
your friend--be content with that.' 'Needs must,' said the Beast. 'But let me make the position plain. I
know I am very terrible, but I love you very much, and I shall be very
happy if you will only remain here. Promise that you will never leave
me.' Beauty blushed at these words. She had seen in her mirror that her
father was stricken down by the sorrow of having lost her, and she
wished very much to see him again. 'I would willingly promise to remain
with you always,' she said to the Beast, 'but I have so great a desire
to see my father again that I shall die of grief if you refuse me this
boon.' 'I would rather die myself than cause you grief,' said the monster. 'I
will send you back to your father. You shall stay with him, and your
Beast shall die of sorrow at your departure.' 'No, no,' said Beauty, crying; 'I like you too much to wish to cause
your death. I promise you I will return in eight days. You have shown me
that my sisters are married, and that my brothers have joined the army. My father is all alone; let me stay with him one week.' 'You shall be with him to-morrow morning,' said the Beast. 'But remember
your promise. All you have to do when you want to return is to put your
ring on a table when you are going to bed. Good-bye, Beauty!' As usual, the Beast sighed when he said these last words, and Beauty
went to bed quite down-hearted at having grieved him. [Illustration: "EVERY EVENING THE BEAST PAID HER A VISIT."] When she woke the next morning she found she was in her father's house. She rang a little bell which stood by the side of her bed, and it was
answered by their servant, who gave a great cry at sight of her. The
good man came running at the noise, and was overwhelmed with joy at the
sight of his dear daughter. Their embraces lasted for more than a
quarter of an hour. When their transports had subsided, it occurred to
Beauty that she had no clothes to put on; but the servant told her that
she had just discovered in the next room a chest full of dresses trimmed
with gold and studded with diamonds. Beauty felt grateful to the
Beast for this attention, and having selected the simplest of the gowns
she bade the servant pack up the others, as she wished to send them as
presents to her sisters. The words were hardly out of her mouth when the
chest disappeared.