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It was right!"
"You mean your daughter's?" the Prince gently suggested.
"Hers and her mother's. Our story was well known in St. Petersburg
twenty years ago, but I suppose no one recollects it now. My wife
was the daughter of a Baron von Plauen, and loved music and myself
better than her home and a titled bridegroom. She escaped, we
united our lives, suffered and were happy together,--and she died.
That is all."
Further conversation was interrupted by the entrance of Helena,
with steaming glasses of tea. She was even lovelier than before.
Her close-fitting dress revealed the symmetry of her form, and the
quiet, unstudied grace of her movements. Although her garments
were of well-worn material, the lace which covered her bosom was
genuine point d'Alencon, of an old and rare pattern. Boris felt
that her air and manner were thoroughly noble; he rose and saluted
her with the profoundest respect.
In spite of the singular delight which her presence occasioned him,
he was careful not to prolong his visit beyond the limits of strict
etiquette.


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