A month or two after his return he received a letter from Count Preskoff, with whom he had, at intervals corresponded ever since his escape from captivity. The count said that he, with the countess and his youngest daughter, Olga, were at present in Paris. The two elder girls had been for some years married. The count said that he intended, after making a stay for some time in Paris, to visit England, but invited Jack to come over to pay them a visit in Paris. Jack gladly assented, and a few days later joined his Russian friends at the Hotel Meurice, in the Rue Rivoli. They received him with the greatest warmth, and he was soon upon his old terms of familiarity with them. He found, to his great pleasure, that Olga could now speak English fluently, and as he had forgotten a good deal of his Russian, and had learned no French, she often acted as interpreter between him and her parents. Jack's Russian, however, soon returned to him, and at the end of a fortnight he was able to converse fluently in it again.
He found Olga very little altered, but she, on her part, protested that she should not have known him again. He had thought very often of her during the years which had passed, but although he had steadfastly clung to the determination he had expressed to his friend Hawtry, of some day marrying her if she would have him, he was now more alive than before to the difference between her position and his. The splendid apartments occupied by the count, his unlimited expenditure, the beauty of his carriages and horses, all showed Jack the difference between a great Russian seigneur and a lieutenant on half-pay. Feeling that he was becoming more and more in love with Olga, he determined to make some excuse to leave Paris, intending upon his return to apply at once to be sent on active service.
One morning, accordingly, when alone with the count, he said to him that he feared he should have to leave for England in a few days, and it was probable he should shortly join his ship.
The count looked keenly at him.
"My young friend," he said, "have we been making a mistake? The countess and I have thought that you were attached to our daughter."
"I am so, assuredly," Jack said. "I love your daughter with all my heart, and have loved her ever since I left her in Russia. But I am older now. I recognize the difference of position between a penniless English lieutenant and a great Russian heiress, and it is because I feel this so strongly that I am thinking that it is best for my own peace of mind to leave Paris at once, and to return to England and to embark on service again as soon as possible."
"But how about Olga's happiness?" the count said, smiling.
"I dare not think, sir," Jack said, "that it is concerned in the matter."
"I fear, my young friend, that it is concerned, and seriously. When you left us in Russia, Olga announced to her mother that she intended to marry you some day, if you ever came back to ask her. Although I would, I confess, have rather that she had married a Russian, I had so great an esteem and affection for you, and owed you so much, that her mother and myself determined not to thwart her inclination, but to leave the matter to time. Olga devoted herself to the study of English. She has, since she grew up, refused many excellent offers, and when her mother has spoken to her on the subject, her only answer has been, 'Mamma, you know I chose long ago.' It was to see whether you also remained true to the affection which Olga believed you gave her, that we have travelled west, and now that I find you are both of one mind, you are talking of leaving us and going to sea."
"Oh, sir," Jack exclaimed, delighted, "do you really mean that you give me permission to ask for your daughter's hand!"