"For shame!" she cried, and once more her laugh rang out sharply.
"Who would be so rough! And wish all the mysteries to be revealed at once? This cloth over my eyes must remain till I give thee leave to remove it. But much hast thou to learn before that hour strikes.
"It deems me thou art but a reckless youth, understanding but badly how to spend thy riches, little realizing the charm of expectation!"
And again bending her tantalizing face quite close to his, her lips hidden amongst his curls, she murmured:
"I shall teach thee, oh so many things; but first of all must I know thy history and why thou art thus wandering aimlessly through the wide, wide world."
Then Eric, still on his knees, his hands pressed against her lap like an anxious child, told her his tale, and how his whole soul was full of the ardent need of finding the face and eyes he wanted for completing his masterpiece. "And perhaps thou hidest behind that cloth the very eyes I have been searching for the wide world over!—that is why my hands are so eager to tear from thy brow what may be masking all my happiness!"
And then Eric began to plead, his beautiful face flushed and excited, his bright eyes entreating, his body quivering; indeed, a sight for the gods in all his youthful perfection.
The woman, although her eyes were covered, seemed aware of what was going on, and replied again laughing, "Not yet, not yet!—but give me thy hand and I shall lead thee through the joys I have in store for thee, and at the end thou mayest quite forget what now thou deemest thy only aim in life;" and like tinkling, cold, silver bells the woman's laugh echoed round the snowy vaults.
Fascinated and unresisting our young painter clung to her cool hand, and let himself be drawn away from the white chamber.
He followed her noiseless steps, feeling that wherever she led he would follow, follow, because he had given over his will into those outstretched hands, that had quite taken possession of his heart, and soul, and senses.