She was humble enough to know herself far below him, shrewd enough to realize that, though she might find it heaven to be with him, his happiness could never lie with her. She knew that she jarred on him in a thousand ways, though lately she had recognized that he had subtly changed towards her, was kinder, more tolerant, and for one wild moment she allowed her thoughts to soar up into the blue skies of impossibility. King Cophetua had loved the Beggar Maid and been happy with her. Why should the day of such miracles be at an end? She looked again at the man beside her, and saw that his eyes were fixed on his wife with such a look of sadness in them that she felt the tears rising to her own. He loved Faith. Whatever he might say or pretend, Peg knew that he loved her, and she gripped her hands beneath the cover of the rug. What a fool Faith was! What a blind little fool, that she could laugh and be merry with a man like Digby when this king amongst men was waiting for her to look his way. And the pendulum of Peg's emotions swung back again. After all, what was her own happiness compared with his? And her thoughts flew to the latest and as yet unfinished novelette lying on her bed at home in which the Lady Gwendoline Maltravers had just dropped gracefully on to her aristocratic knees to plead for her lover's honour with the brutal squire who had sworn to ruin him. "Take me! Body and soul I will be yours, if only you will spare him! Spare the man I love, and give him his happiness!" Peg thought it a noble and lofty sentiment, and a curious feeling of sympathy and kinship with the Lady Gwendoline swept through her heart. She, too, if the occasion arose could sacrifice everything--body and soul--in order that the man she loved might be happy. CHAPTER XI When Peg went to Faith's room that night for their usual gossip, she found the door locked against her. She rattled the handle impatiently and called: "Faith!" There was no answer, and she rapped on the panel, a vague feeling of surprise in her heart. "Faith! It's only me--let me in." There was an answer then. "I've gone to bed--I'm tired." "Tired!" Peg echoed the word with disdainful incredulity. She did not see how Faith could be tired after a day of such ease. She herself was as fresh and wide awake as a lark. "You can't be tired," she said emphatically, and rattled the handle once more. "Faith, let me come in. Does your head ache?" "Of course not, but I want to go to sleep. Good-night." There was such finality in the voice that the colour rose to Peg's handsome face. It was the first time she had ever been shut out from Faith's confidence, and she searched her mind wildly for some reason that would explain things. What had she done? How had she offended? As she stood there, her fingers on the handle of the locked door, the Beggar Man came up the stairs.