Vronsky stared. "Is it possible?"
Felix, with a thousand questions fighting to be uttered, choked and was silent. "Come and see her," he said, after a minute or two.
He went up to the carriage, said a word, and Rona rose, gave him her hand, and alighted to greet Vronsky. There was a hint of something tragic in her beauty which made an instant appeal to the emotional heart of the Russian. Ah, here indeed was the woman for his Felix! Yet she had preferred the ignoble little neat-mannered man up at Nicolashof—the man who was flirting deeply, dangerously, with Nadia, while he awaited the coming of this courageous girl.
"Madam, I greet you. You are a brave lady," he said, gravely, in English; and the girl's eyes filled with tears as she grasped his hand.
"I hope—I trust—that Mr. Vanston is quite recovered?" she faltered. "I mean, that he is much better? I have been in deep anxiety."
"He is as well as ever he was in his life," said Vronsky, "and as well amused. That is the truth. The Governor and his daughter have truly Russian notions of hospitality. They bade me bring you to them, mademoiselle. Will you go?"
"No," said Rona. "Unless you say that I must, I will not go. I would rather stay with you, please, if you are so kind as to make room for me. Mr. Vanston can come and see me at your house. I have no claim upon the kindness of these strangers."
"Our house will be more dear to us ever after if its roof has sheltered your beautiful head, mademoiselle," said Vronsky, with deep conviction.
Rona acknowledged this with a shy smile. "Let Felix ride your horse awhile, and come and sit with me in the carriage and let us make friends."
The suggestion completed the conquest of the big, affectionate fellow. And in this order they made the rest of the journey.