"Now look about you," commanded Red Cap.
Sweep obeyed. He found himself within a stately hall of marble; the walls were carved with gold and coral, all in intricate designs, and there, upon a throne of ivory set with gleaming sapphires, was seated Princess Cendre. Her flowing robes of shimmering white seemed made of moonbeams sewn together, so soft and luminous were they. Her hair, black as a raven's wing, was bound with ropes of pearls and diamonds. The Princess Cendre sat so still that Sweep at first believed she was some lovely carven image he beheld. There was little to make one think of Little Sweep, save that when the Princess Cendre spoke, her voice was Little Sweep's.
"What brings you hither, Sweep?" cried Princess Cendre angrily, when she became aware of him.
Sweep was astonished, but answered mildly, even so.
"Ah, Little Sweep," said he, "now who would think that fine new raiment and a face all clean and shining would make this wondrous change in you? But perchance, if you had ever worn the new gray frock I bought you for our wedding, I would have known about your beauty."
"My name is Little Sweep no longer, but Princess Cendre, I would have you know," she answered coldly. "And what have I to do with gray wedding frocks, I should like to know?"
"Why, Little Sweep," began Sweep in great surprise, but she interrupted him.
"Princess Cendre, if you please!" cried she.
"Well, Princess Cendre, then," said Sweep. "Have you forgot that this is our wedding day? I thought perhaps you would be grieved as I that we were parted, and so I came hither to marry thee."
"To marry me!" exclaimed the Princess Cendre in astonishment. "With your black face, do you suppose that I would marry you? I am the Princess Cendre, you must not forget. And Sweep, if this be your wedding day, as you say it is, my advice to you is this: Marry the Crossing Sweeper of your choice, and if you cannot find her, choose another. The city is full of such poor wretches; there are two or three at every corner."