“I was thinking that a star has fallen,—that I may have a jewel beyond other men,” I said.
“And a star has risen for me,” she said, “that I may have a guide beyond other women.”
“Then it is you who have raised it, Hélène.” I was silent a moment, trying again to bring the matter within my grasp. “Do you mean that you love me, that you will marry me, that you will come back to Kentucky with me and will be content,—you, who have been the companion of a Queen?”
There came an archness into her look that inflamed me the more.
“I, who have been the companion of a Queen, love you, will marry you, will go back to Kentucky with you and be content,” she repeated. “And yet not I, David, but another woman—a happy woman. You shall be my refuge, my strength, my guide. You will lead me over the mountains and through the wilderness by the paths you know. You will bring me to Polly Ann that I may thank her for the gift of you,—above all other gifts in the world.”
I was silent again.
“Hélène,” I said at last, “will you give me the miniature?”
“On one condition,” she replied.
“Yes,” I said, “yes. And again yes. What is it?”
“That you will obey me—sometimes.”