It was thus that two hours later the Master found her, the moonbeams streaming down upon the golden Serpent, and thus directly down upon the golden hair. And kneeling down upon the steps beside her, he raised her head on his knee. And then, taking her in both his arms, the soft white bosom, cold and stiff, pressed to his, and his warm lips upon her frozen ones, he held her so a long time, till he felt the feeble pulse in the new heart, and saw the tiny flutter of her eyelids. That was all. With a sigh of relief he rose to his feet, still holding her, and carried her away with him, through the private door, to where the chariot and horses he used by night were waiting. The moon was setting, the streets deserted still, and quite unnoticed they came to Marble House. And then, leaving the horses in the charge of one of his attendants, the Master himself carried her upstairs to that same bedroom that Rosalie once had occupied for a week of tears. And here he left her with a woman as silent and as dignified as Mariana, though not the same. And all that day till evening Marigold slept, and the long sleep of health--heaven-sent, not Nature’s commoner medicine--was bringing back the roses to her cheeks, as she nestled in among the silken pillows, contented, and unconscious of everything around. And, whilst she slept, the Master wrote a note to Alice, and sent it off at daybreak. “Your mistress is here, and will require your services at once.” And when Alice saw the signature and the address, she threw up her hands in consternation; but, being trained to obedience, returned in the carriage that was sent for her. This time there was no demur made at the door. She was conducted to Mr Barringcourt’s study almost immediately. “Where’s my young lady?--where’s my mistress?” she asked him bitterly, suspiciously, before the door had closed. “Upstairs, in bed. She is recovering from a long illness.” “I’ll take her home. Sick people are always best at home. Let me go to her.” “At present she is fast asleep. I sent for you, because you are not strange to her.” “I’d like to know,” said Alice sturdily, “what she’s doing here. It’s through no wish of her own--of that I am certain. She always called you a heartless quack--a hignorant one, I mean. And--and I haven’t forgotten the last time I came. You used some queer language then, sir--quite unbecoming a gentleman.” “So did you, Alice. You called me a big brute. I’ve done you the honour of remembering it.” “And you called us beggar-folk. My mistress! whom, I told you, was better born than you are.” “I remember that too. But I think we are perhaps about equal. Ellel in Fairy Sky belongs to me. Most of the servants there know me well. I think you are a more recent addition. You came with a very good character, I believe. I remember seeing the testimonials.” Alice’s eyes were wide open in amazement. “Then--what--what about the Princess?” He smiled.