"By the supreme right of beauty, beauty alone."
"Would it be—honest?"
For the first time he lowered his eyes. The clear crystal spirit in hers embarrassed him.
"Come, let us go for your clock," he said, rising. "I am an old fool. I forgot that one talks like this only to opera-dancers."
Then Gretchen understood. "I am all alone," she said; "I have had to fight my battles with these two hands."
"I am a black devil, Kindchen. Forget what I have said. You are worthy the brightest crown in Europe; but you wear a better one than that—goodness. If any one should ever make you unhappy, come to me. I will be your godfather. Will you forgive an old man who ought to have known better?"
There was such unmistakable honesty in his face and eyes that she did not hesitate, but placed her hand in his.
"Why did you ask all those questions?" she inquired.
"Perhaps it was only to test your strength. You are a brave and honest girl."
"And if trouble came," now smiling, "where should I find you?"