It was with great difficulty that he forced his way through one of them, and up to the door.
The moment his hand fell on the latch, through all the uproar of winds and Waters came the joyous cry of the princess: 'There's Curdie! Curdie! Curdie!' She was sitting wrapped in blankets on the bed, his mother trying for the hundredth time to light the fire which had been drowned by the rain that came down the chimney.

The clay floor was one mass of mud, and the whole place looked wretched.

But the faces of the mother and the princess shone as if their troubles only made them the merrier.

Curdie burst out laughing at the sight of them.
'I never had such fun!' said the princess, her eyes twinkling and her pretty teeth shining.

'How nice it must be to live in a cottage on the mountain!' 'It all depends on what kind your inside house is,' said the mother.
'I know what you mean,' said Irene.