Her father and mother had by that time got so used to the odd state of things that they had ceased to wonder at them.

All their arrangements had reference to the state of the Princess Daylight, and it is amazing how things contrive to accommodate themselves.

But how any prince was ever to find and deliver her, appeared inconceivable.
As she grew older she had grown more and more beautiful, with the sunniest hair and the loveliest eyes of heavenly blue, brilliant and profound as the sky of a June day.

But so much more painful and sad was the change as her bad time came on.

The more beautiful she was in the full moon, the more withered and worn did she become as the moon waned.
At the time at which my story has now arrived, she looked, when the moon was small or gone, like an old woman exhausted with suffering.