"I am not angry. It isn't a crime to love a person. Mon Dieu! Monsieur Paul, even before you told me—I don't know why, but I had thought—I had guessed that you loved me, and—and—it made me happy. I don't forbid you to mention it to me—far from it!"
"Ah! mademoiselle, how good you are! and how happy I should be, if—if——"
He dared not say: "If you loved me, too." But his eyes finished the sentence. Elina, who understood him as well as if he had said the words, replied artlessly:
"I thought that you had guessed, too."
Paul put her hands to his lips, and covered them with kisses.
"Ah! I am permitted to know the most perfect happiness!" he cried; "I envy no man on earth. To be loved by you—I dare not believe it! The thought will increase my courage tenfold. I will work harder than ever, so that I can save money; and if I could offer you a comfortable existence; if I could save enough to have a little home of our own; if—— But, no, it is impossible; I can never hope for anything of the kind."
Paul's face became sad once more, and he looked away from Elina. But she took his hand and pressed it softly, saying:
"Well, well! why are you so sad, all of a sudden? I feel so happy! Do you think that I am ambitious, pray, and that I won't be content with whatever you can offer me? It is very bad of you to think that."
"No, mademoiselle; it isn't money that I am thinking of. I am very sure that you are like me, and that you don't care about that. But it is—it is—— Oh! mademoiselle, I will tell you everything, for I do not want to deceive you; and no matter what it costs me to make the confession, you shall know what I am; then you will see that I am not worthy of your love."
"Mon Dieu! what do you mean? You frighten me! Have you done anything wrong?"