esirable thing for
me!--"

But at this moment the hurried, anxious, half-whispered conversation had
to cease, for Madame Potecki came up. Nor was she surprised to find Mr.
Brand there. On the contrary, she said that her time was limited, and
that she could not expect other people to care for old porcelain as much
as she did; and if Mr. Brand would take her dear daughter Natalie to see
some pictures in the rooms up-stairs, she would come and find her out
by-and-by.

"Not at all, dear madame," said Natalie, with some slight flush. "No. We
will go with you to see the three wonderful vases."

So they went, and saw the three crackle vases, and many another piece of
porcelain and enamel and bronze; but always the clever little Polish
woman took care that she should be at some other case, so that she could
not overhear what these two had to say to each other. And they had
plenty to say.

"Why, Natalie, where is your courage? What is the going to America? It
cannot be for ever and ever."

"But even then," she said, in a low, hesitating voice. "If you were
never to see me again, you would blame me for it all. You would regret."

"How can I regret that my life was made beautiful to me, if only for a
time? It was worth nothing to me before. And you are forgetting all
about the ring, and my promise to you."

This light way of talking did not at all deceive her. What had been
torturing her all the night long was the fancy, the suspicion, that her
father was sending her lover to America, not solely with a view to the
work he should have to undertake there, but to insure a permanent
separation between herself and him. That was the cruel bit of it. And
she more than ever admired the manliness of this man, because he would
make no complaint to her. He had uttered no word of protest, for fear of
wounding her. He did not mention her father to her at all; but merely
treated this project of going to America as if it were a part of his
duty that had to be cheerfully accepted.

"After I have once said good-bye to you Natalie" said he, "it will not
be so bad for me. I shall have my work."

"When do you go?" she asked, with rather a white face.

"I don't know yet. It may be a matter of days. You will let me see you
again, my darling--soon?"

"I shall be here every morning, if you wish it" she answered.

"To-morrow, then?"

"To-morrow, at eleven. Anneli will come with me. I should have waited in
on the hope of seeing you this mo