“I will tell mademoiselle a story, if she will permit it,” he said. “Many years ago there was a princess, very beautiful, very wise, and very wealthy. Her councillors begged that she would marry, and at last she told them that she would do so, if they would find for her the prince she should describe, he should be so rich that he should esteem all the treasures of the Indies as a little dust; so wise that no man could ever mention in his presence aught that he did not already know; so fair that no child of man should compare with him in beauty; so spotless in his soul that the very heavens should not be pure in his sight. They knew not where to find that prince, but their lady knew.”
He paused, though not as for an answer. He had guessed well his mother’s plans and hopes; he fathomed as truly Elizabeth’s nature; and when he spoke again, it was as no one except the priest of God had ever heard him speak:
“There are some souls whom no one and nothing on earth can possibly satisfy. Beauty, and learning, and friendship, and home, and love, each alike wearies them. God only can content them, and he is enough—God alone. To such souls he gives himself, if they sincerely desire it. It is a love beyond all imaginable earthly love. It satisfies, yet leaves a constant craving which we have no wish should cease. He understands everything: even those things which we cannot explain to ourselves. It is he finding whom the soul loveth him, and will not let him go.”
After saying this, he sat down once more at the organ, and played again till the hour named by madame arrived. Elizabeth found her pale and suffering, but with a glad look in her eyes.
“You have had talk together, then,” she cried. “I heard the music cease for a while. And is he not charming and good, my Heinrich?”
“Yes,” Elizabeth said dreamily. “He made me understand a little to-night—better than any one has ever done before.”
“Is that so, my little one? And how then?”
“Here,” Elizabeth said innocently, laying her hand on her heart, and with no suspicion of the meaning which the countess attached to the act. “If I could only understand more—more.”
“You will in time, most dear one—in time, in time.” And oh! the exulting ring in madame’s voice. “But see, my precious, what I have to show you.”