She covered her face with her hands and burst into tears, but only for a moment: before I could think what to say to comfort her she was again speaking: "I do not often weep, but this dress depresses me: it is ill-omened."
"Do not think so: you are tired, over-wrought, to-night. The danger is past, and maybe you can persuade your brother to return to his art, and happier days will come."
"Impossible! When he first joined the society I tried in vain. Now he belongs to it heart and soul. He has set an example of communism by selling our land and giving the proceeds to the cause, and he now lives on contributions, which he is not ashamed to take, because he believes that what the earth produces is common to all, and he only receives his rightful share."
"But you also belong—is it not so?"
"When I found he would not return I followed: we could not be separated."
"And you share all his danger?"
"All," she answered firmly. "Danger shared is lessened, you know. Where he is, I am. But I wished to speak of your affairs. I forgot myself: sorrow is selfish. You must write to your employers and give some explanation of your absence: in a week at furthest I trust you will be able to return without annoyance. I will see that information which will exculpate you is given to the authorities. And, as far as my brother and myself are concerned, I know from your face I can trust you."
I would sooner have had my homely features at that moment than those of Apollo. When I arrived in Brussels I wrote to my employers, as she requested, but after excusing my sudden departure I begged them to recommend me to some firm in that city, for I resolved not to leave until I had offered Sidonia the protection of a husband. The answer to my letter was most favorable. I had the pleasure of showing it to Sidonia and telling her my plans, from which she tried to dissuade me with all the eloquence in her power.
"We are dangerous acquaintance, dangerous friends and dangerous enemies. The sooner we fade from your life the better," she said; but I would not listen.
The happiest month of my life I spent in Brussels. I found employment: I saw Sidonia every day, and if possible admired her hourly more. She had a quick judgment, born of the experience she had gained through the part she took in her brother's affairs. She knew whom to trust, and I am happy to say she trusted me; but, though frank, I never again saw the manner she had adopted when she came to my room: inclining naturally to be gay, she was always dignified. Once I ventured to apologize for the way I had spoken to her during that visit.