“‘And you have forgotten Ugo Klun, Christine?’
“Her face flushed at the mention of that name, and she withdrew her arm from mine, standing in the window and looking wistfully across the whitened hills. Presently she said:
“‘Do not speak of the past. Is there not something in every life which it is happiness to forget? And I have so much to remember here, so much to learn, so much to repay. The day has not hours enough for all that I would do to tell Count Paul of my gratitude.’
“‘He speaks, then, of keeping you at the château?’
“‘He has said so from the first, though the priest wishes him to send me to a convent in Vienna. It is dreadful when he contradicts Father Mark, Andrea. You see, one does not learn much in the woods of Zlarin. But I work every day, and they are very kind, and the Count is patient, and I am never to leave them. He tells me that always.’
“I was wondering in my mind, excellency, if he had also told her anything of that I had seen written upon his face when he spoke to me the day before.
“‘Child,’ said I, suddenly, ‘you never loved Ugo Klun—that is, with the love that a wife should bear towards a husband.’
“‘You know that I did not,’ she answered very quickly; ‘who was there to tell me what love was?’
“‘True,’ said I; ‘but that needs no telling when the heart is right. What would you say now if I told you that here in this very house you are ready to give that which the lad Ugo wished so sorely?’
“She turned upon me, her eyes wide open in surprise and cheeks flaming scarlet.