It was no use trying to wake her. They all did their best—King, Queen, ladies, nurses; and after them the great court physicians and learned men of every kind. All were summoned and all consulted and, as the days went on, a hundred different things were tried—but all to no purpose. "She is bewitched," said the cleverest of all the doctors, and as time went on, everybody began to agree with him. Even the King himself was obliged to think something of the kind was at the bottom of it, and at last one day the Queen, unable to endure her remorse any longer, told him the whole story, entreating him to forgive her for having by her discontent and murmuring brought upon him so great a sorrow. The King was very kind but very grave. "I understand it now," he said. "The Summer Fairy told you true. Our northern Winter Spirit is indeed stern; we must submit. If we are patient and resigned it is possible that in the future even his cold heart may be melted by the sight of our suffering." "It is only I who deserve it," wept the poor Queen. "The worst part of it all is to know that I have brought this sorrow upon you, my dear husband." And so repentant she was that she almost forgot to think of herself. Never had she been so sweet and loving a wife. She did everything she possibly could to please and cheer the King, concealing from him the many bitter tears she shed as she sat for hours together beside the sleeping child. The winter was terribly severe—never had the snow lain so thickly, never had the wind-blasts raged and howled more furiously. Often did the Queen think to herself that the spirit must be infuriated at her very presence, in his special domain. "They might pity me now—now that I am so punished." She bore all the winter cold and terrors uncomplainingly, nay, even cheerfully, nerving herself to go out alone in the bitterest weather with a sort of hope of pleasing the Winter Fairy; possibly, if she could but see him, of making an appeal to him. But for many months he held his icy sway. Often indeed it seemed as if gentler times were never to return. Then suddenly one night the frost went; a mild, soft breeze replaced the fierce blast; spring had come. And wonderful to relate, the very next morning the Queen was roused by loud knocking and voices at her door; trembling, she knew not why, she opened it, and the head nurse fell at her feet laughing and crying at once. The Princess had awakened. Yes; there she was, chattering in her baby way, smiling and rosy as if nothing had been the matter. Oh, the joy of her parents and the jubilation all through the palace!