“I shall never know just how it happened, but in one of my struggles the whole bank seemed to slide from under me into the river. I clung to a bush and called to him, and tried to look down, but–he was gone.”
A silence followed. The Princess rested her 203cheek against Elinor’s hair, and murmured words of comfort. “How long ago did this happen?”
“A month ago.”
More from sympathy than from conviction the Princess said:
“He may return. Stranger things have happened. Perhaps he was carried out to sea–and rescued.”
Elinor shook her head. “He was buried beneath the rocks and gravel. If he had risen to the surface, I should have seen him, for the day was clear. No, I know where he is. I see him, all night long, in my sleep, lying at the bottom of the river, his face looking up.”
“My child,” said the Princess, “listen. With your sorrow you have precious memories. From what you have not told me of your Pats, I know him well. He loved you. That is clear. You loved him. That is also clear. Alone with him in this cottage through an endless winter, and perfectly happy! Voyons, you confessed all when you said ‘we were happy!’ He was the man of a woman’s heart! With no hesitation, he gave his life for yours: to save you or die with you. Tell me, what can Heaven offer that is better than a love like that?”
She closed her eyes and drew a long breath. 204“Ah, these Americans! These extraordinary husbands! I have done nothing but hear of them!”
“He was not my husband.”
“But he was to be?”