"Oh, the boundless riches that would come from the union of your poverty!"
Bethsaba turned back to her washing apparatus.
"Please let me go back to my work. Duty before everything!"
"Blessed be the hands that perform it!" said Pushkin.
And each word of his was music in Bethsaba's ears.
"Now I know that I love him," thought she to herself. "I am fully convinced of that. But does he love me?"
"We must now leave you," said Pushkin. "I only came to bring you news from Ghedimin Castle. We must be getting back. The flood is still rising; the whole of St. Petersburg is under water. There is no end of work for us to do; but we shall be coming backwards and forwards many times in the course of the day. I shall have many gifts to lay at your feet, dear Princess."
Gifts! Did not her godmother tell her that the Russian youth brings gifts to his lady-love? So then—
"Gifts?" she asked, with naïve joy, an innocent flush upon her pretty cheeks. "What kind of gifts?"
"Boatfuls of muddy, ragged children for you to wash and dress."