"Yet you say, sir, that for this Order, of which you now speak so slightingly, you had sentiments of reverence?" "For the Order--yes; but none for the men--including myself--who make up its membership." "Surely," said the Archbishop, "your Highness must admit that they are all men of mark; many of them have spent their lives in the public service--leaders of the people in peace and war. You cannot regard these things as nothing." "For these things they already have their titles," said the Prince, "their state-pensions, or the wealth personally acquired on which their power and influence are based. Has the Order of the Thorn ever once in its history been given to a man because he was conspicuously good, or gentle, or forbearing, or unselfishly thoughtful for others? Has it ever once been given to a successful philanthropist who was not also of high lineage and title? I have looked through the lists; I can find none. Your Grace is the only one among us whose profession is to serve God rather than to be served by men." The Archbishop glanced uneasily at the Prince; but there was no sarcasm in his look or tone. Max was never more of an artist than in his adaption of manner to theme. Sadly, almost dejectedly he went on. "And now let us come to myself. It seems that I am not accounted worthy to receive your daughter's hand in marriage. In a certain sense I admit it. That he is unworthy seems true to every man who ever loved a woman well; and perhaps the woman feels the same of herself. But I do not admit that the reasons for your judgment are just. You deny me my claim because, during my early manhood, I have had illicit connection with one woman. Tell me--do you propose that your daughter shall ever marry at all?" The Archbishop looked at the Prince with a half-pitying surmise and drew himself up as though he had some statement to make. Then putting the inclination aside he said: "That is for her to choose." "From her own rank in life?" persisted Max,--"not limited, I mean, to the clerical profession?" "I impose no limits on my daughter's freedom," said the Archbishop. "And do you mean to tell me," inquired the Prince, "that of every suitor for your daughter's hand--lawyer, soldier, politician, man of letters--you will make it your business to inquire--and will expect to be told the truth--whether they have not at some period of their career had illicit connection with women?" "I could recommend no suitor," said the Archbishop, "who had been at so little pains as your Highness to avoid the setting of a bad example to others." "Is it, then, merely secrecy that you advocate?" "A respect for moral observances is in itself a ground of recommendation," answered his Grace; "though at times a man may fall short of what he knows to be right." "You mean," said the Prince, "that I have flagrantly committed myself in the upkeep of an establishment, where others have only paid an extravagant price for a night's lodging?"