It was fine, like the finest lace that the frost-elves weave, and softer than the softest ermine of the snow.

On her long golden hair gleamed a coronet of pearls.
"So beautiful, so dazzling was she as she entered the castle door, that the prince came down to meet her, and kneeling, kissed her hand, and claimed her as his bride.

Then came the bishop in his mitre, and led her to the throne, and before them all the flax-spinner's maiden was married to the prince, and made the Princess Olga.
"Then, until the seven days and seven nights were done, the revels lasted in the castle.

And in the merriment the old flax-spinner was again forgotten.

Her kindness of the past, her loneliness in the present, had no part in the thoughts of the Princess Olga.
"But the beads that had rolled away into the darkness buried themselves in the earth, and took root and sprang up.