After dinner that same day Dr. Cheek and I called upon the Commissioner. We had failed, and were come to him for advice. His sympathies were easily enlisted, but he had no authority to interfere in local or tribal matters. He advised us to go to the Prince. We did so, meeting him and the Princess alone. Their position was like that of the Commissioner. They, too, sympathized with the young couple and with us. But it raised a new question for them, and they feared to give offence. The Princess said they had been criticised by our enemies for standing by us; but if the Chao Uparāt would give his sanction, no one else, they thought, would dare oppose. So we went next to the Uparāt; but there we ran against a stone wall. He inwardly laughed at our predicament. He had us just where he wanted us to be. If our young people could not marry, our work would be virtually stopped. He said that no one but the King of Siam had authority to interfere in such a question. We returned home signally defeated. Next day I went alone to the Chao Uparāt, and argued the justice of our case. The parties had renounced their allegiance to the spirits. It was clearly unreasonable to require what we could not conscientiously submit to. I even begged him to come to our aid, since both the Commissioner and the Prince had said that they were sure that no one else would oppose his decision. If we were compelled, we must appeal to His Majesty the King of Siam, though we should be very reluctant to do so. Since marriage is a civil as well as a religious rite, I was sure His Majesty would admit the justice of our appeal. Either thinking that we would not make the appeal, or that the appeal would be in vain, he at last refused to discuss the question further. Little did he know, nor did we then, that he was doing the best possible thing for us.