us messenger?"

She shut the door and went forward to him.

"What is the matter?" she said, quickly: there was something in his look
that alarmed her.

He caught both her hands in his, and held them tight.

"Nothing to frighten you, at all events," said he: "no, Natalie I have
good news for you. Only--only--you must be brave."

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.

"Dearest," said she, "why are you afraid to tell me. You hold my hands:
do they tremble?"

"But, Natalie, think!" he said. "Think of the locket; it was given you
by one who loved you--who has loved you all these years--and been kept
away from you--and now she is waiting for you."

He studied her face intently: there was nothing there but a vague
bewilderment. He grew more and more to fear the effect of the shock.

"Yes, yes. Can you not think, now, if it were possible that one whom you
have always thought to be dead--whom you have loved all through your
life--if it were she herself--"

She withdrew her hands from his, and caught the back of a chair. She was
ghastly pale; for a secon