erve his
eyes, which were large, black and exceptionally splendid. In figure he
was tall and firmly built, an aquiline nose and clearly-cut chin giving
a high-bred look to his face, and he wore some sort of a decoration
which caught Helen's notice. At the table-d'hote that evening I found
myself seated next to him. Our table-talk, begun early in the meal, was
the beginning of an acquaintance that developed into that strongest of
affections which makes slaves of us all. I never forgot my proud
birthright, and well understood the danger of a European alliance--or
misalliance. The gentleman was quite Oriental, belonging to that country
which has Bucharest for its capital. His family was of high distinction,
connected with that of the reigning prince. He possessed a modest
fortune, had been educated in Athens and Paris, and spoke four or five
languages. He was ardent, jealous, passionate, but possessed a heart at
once so loving, so full of every tender and winning quality, that it was
easy to forgive outbursts of feeling and similar offences. He had spent
some time in England, without, however, learning to speak much of the
language. The history of his past life, as he related it to us, was
quite in keeping with his character as a man. He had been affianced when
quite young to a beautiful girl, quarrelled with her, broke off the
engagement, then joined the Greek army, fought against the Turks, and
was four times wounded.

"It was early in June when we arrived in Paris, and at the occurrence of
my birthday in August we had become very well acquainted, as also with a
number of his friends to whom he had introduced us. Wishing to observe
my _fete_, he sent me a tiny bouquet--a rose and some sprays of fragrant
flowers. In the evening he begged for some souvenir of the day, when I
declared I had nothing to give.

"'Then I shall _take_ something,' he replied, and clipped from a curl a
ring of my hair, which he placed in a locket attached to his watchguard,
in the back of which he previously made a note of the day.

"'That will remain there for ever,' he remarked.

"'Which means six months, at the end of which time you will have
forgotten me,' I replied.

"'Not at the end of six months, six years, nor six ages,' he warmly
retorted.

"As the autumn months wore away, and he began to talk to me of marriage,
the seriousness of his love frightened me, and it was not until I was
assured by what seemed unmistakable proofs that all