No—this should never go to the bastard Ferdinand, whose life in Constantinople was a disgrace. This record of fine living and achievement of worthy Ardayres should remain the glory of the true blood.
He turned and looked at Amaryllis at his side, so slender, and strong, and young—and he said:
"It is necessary above all things that you cultivate a steadiness and clearness of judgment, which will enable you to see the great aim in a thing, and not be hampered by sentimental jingo and convention, which is a danger when a nature is as good and true, but as undeveloped, as yours. Whatever circumstance should arise in your life, in relation to the trust you hold for this family and this home, bring the keenest common sense to bear upon the matter, and keep the end, that you must uphold it and pass it on resplendent, in view."
Amaryllis felt that he was transmitting some message to her. His eyes were full of inspiration and seemed to see beyond.
What message? She refrained from asking. If he had meant her to understand more fully he would have told her plainly. Light would come in its own time.
"I promise," was all she said.
They looked at the great tower; the sun had left some of the windows and in one they could see the figure of a woman standing there in some light dressing-gown.
"That is Harietta Boleski," Verisschenzko remarked, his mood changing, and that penetrating and yet inscrutable expression growing in his regard. "It is almost too far away to be certain, but I am sure that it is she. Am I right? Is that window in her room?"
"Yes—how wonderful of you to be able to recognise her at that distance!"
"Of what is she thinking?—if one can call her planning thoughts! She does not gaze at views to appreciate the loveliness of the landscape; figures in the scene are all which could hold her attention—and those figures are you and me."