"Then if I might have books, a little music, flowers—oh, it seems like a dream of heaven; as well might I sigh for a palace."
"No palace could be too fair for you, Berna, no prince too noble. Some day, your prince will come, and you will give him that great love I told you of once."
Swiftly a shadow came into the bright eyes, the sweet mouth curved pathetically.
"Not even a beggar will seek me, a poor nameless girl travelling in the train of dishonour ... and again, I will never love."
"Yes, you will indeed, girl—infinitely, supremely. I know you, Berna; you'll love as few women do. Your dearest will be all your world, his smile your heaven, his frown your death. Love was at the fashioning of you, dear, and kissed your lips and sent you forth, saying, 'There goeth my handmaiden.'"
I thought for a while ere I went on.
"You cared for your grandfather; you gave him your whole heart, a love full of self-sacrifice, of renunciation. Now he is gone, you will love again, but the next will be to the last as wine is to water. And the day will come when you will love grandly. Yours will be a great, consuming passion that knows no limit, no assuagement. It will be your glory and your shame. For him will your friends be foes, your light darkness. You will go through fire and water for your beloved's sake; your parched lips will call his name, your frail hands cling to him in the shadow of death. Oh, I know, I know. Love has set you apart. You will immolate yourself on his altars. You will dare, defy and die for him. I'm sorry for you, Berna."
Her face hung down, her lips quivered. As for me, I was surprised at my words and scarce knew what I was saying.
At last she spoke.
"If ever I loved like that, the man I loved must be a king among men, a hero, almost a god."