ote to her."

Nicholas moved uneasily, and I observed a deep flush on his face, but he
did not speak.

That evening Ivanka put her arms round my neck, told me she loved
Nicholas because of his kindness to her father, and besought me
earnestly to tell her what had passed between us.

A good deal amused, I told her as much as I thought she could
understand.

"Oh! I should so like to see Bella," she said.

"So you shall, dear, when she comes."

"Does she speak Russian?"

"Yes. She has been several times in Russia, and understands the
language well."

As I had predicted, Bella arrived a few days after receiving my letter.
My mother accompanied her.

"Oh, Jeff, this is dreadful!" said my poor mother, as she untied her
bonnet-strings, and sat down on the sofa beside Bella, who could not for
some time utter a word.

"What child is that?" added my mother quickly, observing Ivanka.

"It is the daughter of Dobri Petroff.--Let me introduce you, Ivanka, to
my mother, and to my sister Bella--you know Bella?"

I had of course written to them a good deal about the poor child, and
Bella had already formed an attachment to her in imagination. She
started up on hearing Ivanka's name, and held out both hands. The child
ran to her as naturally as the needle turns to the pole.

While my mother and I were talking in a low tone about Nicholas, I could
not avoid hearing parts of a conversation between my sister and Ivanka
that surprised me much.

"Yes, oh! yes, I am quite sure of it. Your brother told me that he said
he would never, never, never be so wicked as to let you come and see
him, although he loved you so much that he--"

"Hush, my dear child, not so loud."

Bella's whisper died away, and Ivanka resumed--

"_Yes_, he said there was almost nothing of him left. He was joking,
you know, when he said that, but it is not so much of a joke after all,
for I saw--"

"Oh! hush, dear, hush; tell me what he said, and speak lower."

Ivanka spoke so low that I heard no more, but what had reached my ear
was sufficient to let me know how the current ran, and I was not sorry
that poor Bella's mind should be prepared for the terrible reality in
this way.

The battle of love was fought and won that day at Nicholas's bedside,
and, as usual, woman was victorious.

I shall not weary the reader with all that was said. The concluding
sentences will suffice.

"No, Nicholas," said Bella, holding the right hand of the wound