"Not in the least; obstinacy is hopeless, but Mrs. Grundy may be got around."
"How so?" asked Ragna.
"In the first place, there is no reason at all why Mrs. Grundy should become aware of my existence—in the second place, there are ways of placating that worthy dame. I know something of that," he smiled to himself reminiscently. "However, that is beside the point,—prevention is better than cure, besides being simpler. No, little friend," he emphasized the word, "let our friendship be free from outside interference—let us keep it to our two selves."
Ragna thought that too delicate to hint of their difference in station, he was taking this way of urging on her the private character of their acquaintanceship,—of telling her that he did not care to be thrust into a bourgeois milieu. That he should desire to prolong the chance renewal of their comradeship beyond the hour, flattered her, and she was too innocent-minded and too accustomed to the free intercourse between northern men and maidens to see any real harm in acceding to his suggestion. "Concealment," she told herself, "did not necessarily imply deceit, so why expose herself to the curiosity of Astrid and Estelle Hagerup, why hedge about this unexpected adventure with the formality that must of necessity follow on disclosure, when she might so easily keep it to herself?" Quite unconsciously she was actuated by a slight jealousy of Astrid; in spite of herself, the assured triumph of Astrid's career as symbolised in her engagement, the consequence it gave her in the eyes of others, rankled in Ragna's spirit. The thought that a prince sought her friendship raised her in her own eyes and gave her a sort of moral vertigo. If Mirko had shown the slightest sign of remembering that he had once kissed her, her pride would have been up in arms to defend her, but he seemed to remember her only as a merry comrade and it was as such that he sought her society. He saw her hesitation and pressed his point.
"Let me show you the charm of Italy, you will never learn it alone. Italy to be understood must be seen through two pairs of eyes—and you can always dismiss me the minute you are tired of me. I should so like to show you Rome,—the Rome I love—There is no reason why anyone should know, you have told me yourself that you go about alone. You don't know how useful I can make myself if I try!"
Ragna laughed.
"I confess you convey more the impression of a 'lily of the field,' than of an exponent of the beauty of utility!"
"Oh, but you've never seen me really hard at work! Nor has anyone else, for the matter of that," he added to himself.
"Then what is it, exactly, you expect to do for me?"
"I shall be your guide, philosopher and friend. 'Sous les remparts de Rome et sous ses vastes plaines!'" he declaimed, drawing himself up.