So they went back to Marble House together--these two so friendly on all points but one. And all that afternoon the Master gave to his companion--observing the strict rules of an etiquette that made them both for the time being the most charming companions of all. And Marigold went back to the Palace, and Alice sat with her reading all the afternoon. And a very proud little curve had settled on Marigold’s lips, for she kept saying to herself: “How could I ever love him?--a man to whom one’s position in the world makes such a difference. When I was poor he was always self-assured and self-composed, and even when he might have hurt me badly, he never cared or sent once to enquire. And as soon as I am rich--he hears my name--a Princess--that quick confusion, even a startled, anxious look at the strings round my neck. Oh! it is too despicable--more than I can stand. I think I could forgive him everything but that.” So do we all at times misjudge our neighbours. And that night the High Priest said to St Armand, with excitement in his manner: “There has been twice at Church to-day a lady dressed in black, bearing a wonderful, though more refined resemblance to the beggar girl--to Marigold. I think I’ve seen her there before. I noticed she observed me pointedly. That is the style of woman I admire. The beggar girl was pretty, but too coarse in her manner--too free in her speech for a cultivated mind. These poor! when they open their mouths, how they disappoint one!” So did he speak--himself believing what he said. And thus St Armand patiently--the High Priest never seeing the contemptuous smile. “The beggar girl, I grant, was empty-headed, coarse, and uncultivated in her speech--but she was pretty. This lady whom you speak of is the Princess of Ellel--Marigold too. But more than different when you come to speak to her.” Thus was the High Priest blinded--believing as his prejudices swayed and St Armand taught him. CHAPTER XXIV Next afternoon, as Marigold was sitting near a window, idle as usual, the great High Priest was ushered in. He came without any qualms of conscience, any loss of worldly dignity, without having to stoop his head to get within the door, and with no sense of being too big for the room where he now found himself. Marigold, from her seat in the far window, saw him coming, and rose to greet him. Her heart beat a little faster, yet not with love, or that more common form, infatuation, but with a little sense of power and some unshown amusement. But he, after all these weeks and their humiliations, forsaken by a beggar girl and laughed at by St Armand, felt his thin pulses quicken--for the face and figure before him were very beautiful, very dignified--an ideal wife for one in Holy Orders--had he not been too high. “The Princess of Ellel, I believe?” She smiled very sweetly, and drew a chair for him beside her own, near to the open window.