He put his arm about her and was silent a moment, gazing thoughtfully before him. Then he looked up at her.
"It strikes me sometimes what a poor life I have to offer you, Nora," he said abruptly. "I don't think I would have noticed it so much, had I not seen your home. Poverty is such a relative conception. There are hundreds of officers' wives who are no better off than you, and who think themselves comfortably situated. But your father talked of poverty, and lived—for our ideas—like a lord. When I compare things I feel as though I had wronged you, and tempted you into a life of sacrifice to which you were never born."
Nora bent her head and kissed him.
"You are a very foolish fellow!" she said. "If you were not so filled with fortifications and tactics, you would know quite well that I would rather live in a rabbit-hutch with my husband, than in a palace with a prince."
Arnim laughed, and it was obvious that her words had lifted a very real burden from his mind.
"I'm afraid you would never get your husband into a rabbit-hutch," he said, with a self-satisfied glance at his own long, powerful limbs. "Still, it is a comfort to know that you would be ready to make the attempt. I think, though, if your people knew, and were not blinded by a certain deceitful young person, they would feel very differently. I think they would have a good many disagreeable things to say on the subject of your German home. Don't you?"
"No, I don't!" said Nora, privately determined that they should never have the chance. "I think they would be very glad to see for themselves how happy I am."
Wolff drew a letter from the pocket of his Litewka, and handed it to her.
"In that case there seems every likelihood of them enjoying that spectacle in the near future," he said. "I had this letter from your father by the evening post. Read it and see what you think."
Nora's beaming face clouded over somewhat. Letters from her father were always a mixed pleasure, and Wolff's words had warned her that this particular one contained something more than the usual condensed sermon. Her supposition was correct. After a long-winded preamble, the Rev. John plunged into the matter which was really on his mind. It appeared that Miles, having broken down under the strain of his military duties, had been granted a few months' leave, and it was proposed that he should spend the time abroad—for the benefit of his education. And whither was it more natural that he should go than to his own dear sister?