courier in scarlet and gold stopped at the door of the cottage and invited Olga to the castle. Princesses and royal ladies from all over the realm were to be entertained there, seven days and seven nights. Every night a grand ball was to be given, and Olga was summoned to each of the balls. It was because of her pleasing manner and her great
beauty that she had been bidden.
The old Flax-spinner courtesied low to the courier and promised that Olga should be at the castle without fail.
"But, good dame," cried Olga, when the courier had gone, "prithee tell me why thou didst make such a promise, knowing full well this gown of tow is all I
own. Wouldst have me stand before the Prince in beggar's garb? Better to bide at home for aye than be put to shame before such guests."
"Have done, my child!" the old dame said. "Thou shalt wear a court robe of the finest. Years have I toiled to have it ready, but that is naught. I loved thee as my own."
Then once more the old Flax-spinner went into her inner room, and pricked herself with her spindle till another great red drop of her heart's blood fell into her trembling hand. With witchery of words she blew upon it, and rolled it in her palm, and muttering, turned and turned and turned it. And as the spell was laid upon it, it shrivelled into a
tiny round ball like a seed, and she strung it on to a thread, where were many others like it. Seventy times seven was the number of beads on this strange rosary.
When the night of the first ball rolled around, Olga combed her long golden hair and twined it with a wreath of snowy water-lilies, and then she stood before the