bishop, reduced to extremity in order to get rid of his
distinguished but unwelcome visitor, permitted himself to throw an
involuntary glance in the direction of the sound.

The Prince, perceiving the indication, rose at once to his feet.

"Pardon me," he said, "for having kept you so long."

"Pardon _me_," returned his Grace; "unfortunately I have to dine."

"Of course. I ought not to have forgotten."

"I mean that I have guests."

"They shall not be kept waiting by me," said the Prince. He moved to the
door. Then he stopped.

"Your Grace," he said, "I know that we cannot be friends, still----"

He paused; and there was silence.

"I greatly wish to see your daughter. Surely you cannot deny me that
right."

"_I_ cannot," said the Archbishop. "She does."

This pulled Max up with a jerk: not that he yet believed it, however.

"Where is she now?" he inquired.

"She has joined the Sisterhood of Poverty. To-day she entered her
profession."

The Prince choked.

"That is horrible!" he said. "You mean she has taken vows?"

The Archbishop of Ebury bowed his head. "For the remainder of _my_ life
at all events," he said in a stricken tone. "She will not return here.
My house is left desolate to me--because of you."

"You still have guests," said the Prince.

"That is an unworthy gibe," retorted his Grace. "My work has still to go
on."

"I beg your pardon," said Max.

"I have written to her," he added after a pause; "and she has not
answered. Will your Grace be good enough----"

"I do not think she will. She prays for you. If you came, I was to tell
you that."

Again there was silence for a time.

"When I was a child," said the Prince, "I had an old nurse, who whenever
I did anything wrong--as whipping was not allowed--used to go down on
her knees and pray for me; and she always did it against a blank wall. I
suppose it helped her. That has always remained my vision of prayer. And
now I shall always think of your daughter with her dear face turned to a
blank wall, praying for you and me--her murderers."

He went out.

"Upon my word!" thought the Archbishop, "that is a dangerous man to be
heir to a throne."

CHAPTER XXI

NIGHT-LIGHT

I

And meanwhile the Prince of Schnapps-Wasser had arrived; and Max,
instead of pursuing his own love-affair, ought to have been busy
entertaining him.

The first meeting between Charlotte and her suitor had been tactfully
arranged; they had met ridi