"First by drying your tears—things might have been much worse with you, you know; think of that; then by having some supper; I am positively famished; and after that, if you like, you can tell me your story, and we will see whether, by putting our heads together, we cannot find a way to help you further."
"I am afraid——" and she broke down again.
With much persuasion I induced her to eat something and take a little wine; and this seemed to cheer her. She dried her eyes and as we sat side by side on a couch, she put her hand in mine and gradually nestled into my arms like a weary wee child.
"I'll begin," I said. "My name is Christabel Gilmore. I'm an American, and a student at the University here;" and I added some details about the States and so on; just talking so as to give her time to gather confidence.
"You haven't told me your name yet," I said, presently.
"I am the Countess von Ostelen. You have heard the name?" she said, quickly, at my start of surprise.
"I was surprised, that is all. Yes. I knew the name years ago in America. I knew the Count von Ostelen."
"He is my husband," she said, very simply. "My Christian name is Gareth. You will call me by that, of course." With a sweet little nervous gesture she slipped her arm away and began to finger her wedding ring.
"I had seen that, my dear."
"Your eyes see everything, Christabel;" and her arm came about me again and her head rested on my shoulder.