“I have been looking at some old pictures this morning,” she said. “This one was taken when, as a girl, I was presented at the English court.”
She was silent while Martha was uttering her glowing words of praise, as she looked at the photograph of the beautiful young girl in her white court-dress with plumes and veil; and then she put the other into her hand, saying quietly:
“This was taken in my wedding-dress, a few days after my marriage.”
Her manner indicated a controlled excitement, but she was quite unprepared for the effect that this photograph had upon Martha. The girl fixed her eyes upon it with a sort of greedy delight, and while she drew in her breath with thick, short respirations, the hand that held the picture trembled.
“I can see it all!” she exclaimed. “Oh, Sonia, were you ever really as happy as that? What were you looking at, with your head turned in that eager way?”
“Yes, I was a Happy Princess once, my dear. But you are a wonderful creature, Martha! No one but you ever thought to ask that question, so I have been saved the embarrassment of explaining. Since you have asked me, I will tell you that I was looking at my husband. While the photographer was posing me in various ways, my husband was waiting for me. He was supposed to be out
“‘OH, SONIA, WERE YOU EVER REALLY AS HAPPY AS THAT?’”
of sight, but I heard a newspaper rustle, and looked quickly around, and caught a glimpse of him, between two screens, seated quietly and unconsciously reading the paper. One of those great rushes of passionate tenderness which the sight of the man she loves can sometimes bring to a woman’s heart came over me. At that moment the photographer got the instantaneous impression. I don’t know why I should tell you all this, except that you saw it all there. To other people there never seemed any special significance in the picture.”