Side by side the two slowly paced the terrace in silence.
Wilfrid was thinking of the words spoken by Princess Sumaroff, Pauline of Wilfrid’s coming departure. He had told her of his intention to leave Russia within a few days; she received the news with a strange sinking of heart. How desolate her future if deprived of his presence! Yet what had she done to deserve his companionship? Nothing! but much to forfeit it; and yet, if the true working of her mind could be known to him, he would see that she was not quite so bad as he perhaps thought her.
“And you have no word of reproach for me?” she said gently.
“It was wrong of you, but I am willing to forgive you on one condition.”
She looked at him, uneasy in mind as to what his next words would be.
“The condition is that you consent to be Countess Courtenay.”
Greatly daring, he put his left arm around her, and, taking her left hand within his right, drew her towards him.
He had need to hold her: but for his strong grasp she would have fallen to the ground in sheer amazement at words so unexpected.
Recovering somewhat, she strove to put aside his arms, saying many times over, what she sincerely believed, that she was not worthy of him.
“Do you really love me?” she said at last, raising to him eyes in which tears were glittering.