The princess was very tall--so tall that when Martha walked at her side she had to turn her face upward to speak to her. They walked along in the most natural companionship until they reached a cab-stand nearby, and Martha thought her divinity more worshipful than ever as she stood wrapped in her long cloak, with a large, black-plumed hat crowning her beautiful head, and said some words of gentle pity about the poor old, weak-kneed cab-horses drawn up in a line. When they had entered a cab, and were seated side by side, the princess said abruptly: “If you had not heard something of me, I should have told you nothing. Why should we ask questions about each other? We meet to-day, art students in a Paris atelier, and we shall part to-morrow. What have we to do with formalities? Of you I know that you are a young American studying painting here, and I think, in a way, sympathetic to me. I am content to know that, and no more, of you. Do you feel the same about me?” Martha replied eagerly in the affirmative, and in five minutes the two had come to a perfect understanding. The girl felt her awe at being in “the presence” gradually fading away, [Illustration: “THE PRINCESS WAS VERY TALL.”] as this winning young woman sat and talked with her on a footing of friendly equality. It was after a short silence between them that the princess said: “There are one or two things that it will be necessary for you to know--that is, if you like me well enough to come to see me, as I hope you do. I am living in the Rue Presbourg, and when you come to see me, you are to ask for the apartment of the Princess Mannernorff. You will come, will you not?” “Oh, if you will only let me, it will be my greatest happiness!” said Martha. “I can’t understand what has made you so good to me!” “Simply, I like you. It isn’t hard to understand. I’ve noticed you a long time, and I’ve liked you more and more. I like your manner; I like your face; I like your devotion to your work; and I like your work.” “My work! My scratching and smudging, you mean! Oh, how _can_ you notice it or care for it when you look at yours? Every one must see that Etienne knows that you are his best pupil. He does not speak to any one as he does to you, and you must know as well as I that it is not because you are a princess.” “Yes, of course; I know that perfectly well. But I fancy that Etienne, in his little critical heart, feels that he hasn’t got out of me what he looked for at first. At least, I have that idea; and you see I have studied enough, compared with you, to be a great deal further ahead of you than I am. I have digged and delved for that treasure more than you realize. I hope to do something tolerable some day; but I’m not as confident about it as I used to be, and I fear Etienne is not, either. Oh, I _wish_ I could!”