I am not a young man now. But in all my
life there has been only one woman.--That fact came to me forcibly in
that first hour of your first visit to me here: the beginning of our
thrice-blessed companionship.

"That beautiful dream is ended, now. No doubt, for a time, you must
leave this place. But it is insulting neither you nor the dishonored
dead whose wife you have not been for years, to tell you what you know:
that you carry away with you my soul!--Nathalie, Princess of all my
life, will you not set forth leaving behind you the promise to come
back?--You shall wait as long as you will: two years, if it must be. I
have endured far longer than that, and without hope.--Only let there be
between us the dear knowledge that, in time, you are to accept for a
husband the man whose life shall thenceforward be at your least
command!"

His speech had been too rapid for interruption; and yet both voice and
manner were quiet and restrained. His every word was spoken with the
simplicity of unconscious ardor. And only from his eyes, which burned
her, and the almost painful clasping of her hands, could the Princess
surmise his emotion.

Perhaps, had it been feasible, she would have stopped his speech. But,
somehow, he had compelled a hearing. And nothing he had said either
shocked or repelled her. Yet she was enough affected by the death of the
man who had done her every despite, but who had, nevertheless, taught
her the mystery of life and given her her children, to be distressed at
this proposal in the first hours of her widowhood.

Gently she put Ivan from her, and rose, moving towards the window,
before which she stood, gazing down into the white street, while Ivan
waited, trembling with emotion. When she turned to him again, she had
replaced the chains upon her feelings.

"This afternoon I am leaving for Petersburg," she said. "I must carry
your words away with me.--My impulse is to reject, instantly, every
suggestion of such a thing.--But your companionship in these last weeks
has meant for me more than I can tell you now; and, in my empty home in
Petersburg, I shall carefully consider the honor you have done me.--Yes,
dear Ivan, it is an honor from any man; and from you a very great one.
The woman whom you married would be fortunate, I know. But--I can only
promise to write you, soon. Believe me, you shall not wait longer than I
can help. This is fair, I think.

"And now, I can give you no more time to-day.--No, you