It was he who was afraid; he did not know how to begin.
"That locket there," said he, regarding the little silver trinket. "Have you ever thought about it?—why do you wear it?"
"Why do I wear it?" she said, simply. "Because one day that Calabressa was talking to me it occurred to me that the locket might have belonged to my mother, and that some one had wished to give it to me. He did not say it was impossible. It was his talk of Natalie and Natalushka that put it in my head; perhaps it was a stupid fancy."
"Natalie, the locket did belong to your mother."
"Ah, you know, then?" she said, quickly, but with nothing beyond a bright and eager interest. "You have seen that lady? Well, what does she say?—was she angry that you followed her? Did you thank her for me for all those presents of flowers?"
"Natalie," said he almost in despair, "have you never
thought about it—about the locket? Have you never thought of what might be possible?"
"I do not understand you," she said, with a bewildered air. "What is it? why do you not speak?"
"Because I am afraid. See, I hold your hands tight because I am afraid. And yet it is good news: your heart will be filled with joy; your life will be quite different from to-day ever after. Natalie, cannot you imagine for yourself—something beautiful happening to you—something you may have dreamed of—"
She became a little pale, but she maintained her calmness.