"Is it not to Freyo's noble gift, so long ago, that we do owe our daughter's life!" exclaimed these grateful monarchs. "How then shall we deny him for our daughter's husband? Announce the betrothal, heralds!"
Then straightway the wedding day was set. Dame Grumble journeyed down from the country quite close to the top of the earth and was made welcome by Queen Silverland and her noble ladies. (To be quite formal, we should now call the good dame Duchess Freyoland, for as mother of a duke, she had likewise become ennobled. However, as the good dame liked her old name best, perhaps we had best call her just Dame Grumble after all.)
In order that all folk might rejoice in goodly earnest at her wedding feast, the Princess Silverstar besought her father two favors. First, that he would forgive all debts and moneys that his people owed the crown, and second, that he would take no taxes for a whole year and a day. She then commanded that every subject be given fine new holiday attire and a well-filled purse, according to his rank and station. In all the history of the kingdom there was not known a finer feast than this. The noble lords and ladies rode and drove or danced at splendid balls. The common people sang or played games on the highways and feasted on the village greens. Then when the seven days of fun and feasting passed at last, and Freyo with his lovely bride drove off to their castle, Dame Grumble sat beside them in the royal chariot. But not for long could the good dame content herself in their splendid castle. Her heart began to yearn, and she began to pine most sadly for her home. Though Freyo and his lovely bride begged her to stay and dwell with them forever, the good dame would not hear of it.
"Ah, no, my children!" cried Dame Grumble. "Long, long ago, 'tis true, I wished for a noble house and fancied I would be happy as a queen if I might live in one. Since the visit of the Traveler, I have grown much wiser. I know that I can be happy as a queen if I am but content. So in my little cottage with the North Wind and the Apple Tree for friends, I shall dwell all my days."
So saying, Dame Grumble bade Freyo and his lovely bride farewell, and leaning on the Traveler's staff she set off for home. She reached her little cottage on a bright spring day, just when the Apple Tree was decked in clouds of fragrant, pinky-white blossoms, and looked as lovely as a fairy tree. Dame Grumble gazed with satisfaction on her favorite tree, and as she gazed it came to her mind that in all the noble sights she saw at court, she had seen nothing half so lovely as the Apple Tree in spring.
It was not long now before the North Wind came roaring over field and forest in his usual fashion, but when he saw Dame Grumble he ceased suddenly. He asked most civilly how the good dame did and whether she had liked the life at court. To all his questions Dame Grumble made most amiable reply and hoped the North Wind's health was fair. For, if you will believe me, these two old enemies were now good friends. They had not had a cross word or a quarrel since the evening of the Traveler's visit long ago.
"And now, Dame Grumble," said the North Wind, "for seven long years you have ceased your scolding and grumbling, and if you will it so, the spell that bound the Apple Tree may now be broken. Only command me to cease my mischief, and I will touch your blossoms nevermore. Likewise command the Apple Tree to bear you golden apples, and you shall have them."
"But North Wind!" cried the Apple Tree. "First tell my mistress what you have done with all the pennies from my blossoms. My mistress has a heart of gold and needs not golden apples."
Dame Grumble smiled with pleasure that the Apple Tree should speak thus kindly of her. Well she remembered the olden days when she had often been most harsh with her favorite tree, and she hoped the tree had now forgiven her. "The Apple Tree praises my heart too highly," said Dame Grumble modestly. "Still, North Wind, I must own that I have been most curious about the pennies from the blossoms you have blown away."
"The pennies were not stored in some hollow of the earth, as you supposed, long, long ago, when you set out to find them," said the North Wind. "Each springtime, when I blew the blossoms of the Apple Tree around the world, I dropped the pennies at the feet of poor children who had none but me to love them. These poor children then ran pell-mell to the nearest sweet shop to spend their pennies and were happy as larks in consequence."