ANDREA PUTS THE QUESTION
“I lay that night in one of the barrack-like rooms of the château,
excellency; but on the following afternoon, the Count being gone to
Livno, I found myself alone with Christine for the first time. I
thought the opportunity good to question her; and she was ready in
reply, though it was not to be hidden from me that I was necessary to
her no longer, and that some little reticence in her manner was the
outcome of her new estate.
“‘I am happy, yes,’ she said, as we talked together in the great hall
and looked out upon the dazzling white hills above Jajce; ‘so happy
that I wake often in my sleep and ask if I ever lived in Zlarin, or
married Ugo, or ran away to the hills. It is good to have a home,
Andrea.’
“‘Well spoken, truly,’ cried I; ‘and it would be strange if you should
remember that there was one old man in Sebenico who was glad to see
Christine of Zlarin again.’
“‘As I am glad to see him--though four years have passed. Forgive me,
Andrea; you were very kind to me.’
“‘It is something that you should think of it,’ I exclaimed; ‘did I
cross the mountains to be treated like a boy at his catechism? _Per
Baccho_, it is “four years, four years” on all your tongues!’
“At this she took my arm very prettily, and speaking as she used to
speak, she said:--
“‘Do not regret your journey yet. There are few who come to the house
of Count Paul who do not learn to love him. Be wise and speak well of
him.’
“I was somewhat appeased at this, and it seemed to me, when I thought
upon it, that I had been to much expense one way and the other in
helping Christine to her present happiness, and that the day might be
near when the Count would care to remember the debt. Yet this I kept
from the girl, going on to talk of riper matters.
“‘You speak, child,’ said I, ‘of the Count’s generosity. You have found
him a kind master, I do not doubt.’
“‘He is not my master; he is my friend,’ she replied; ‘yet I could
well live and die in his service. There could not be love enough in the
world for Count Paul, Andrea.’
“‘And you have forgotten Ugo Klun, Christine?’
“Her face flushed at the mention of that name, and she withdrew her
arm from mine, standing in the window and looking wistfully across the
whitened hills. Presently she said:
“‘Do not speak of the past. Is there not something in every life which
it is happiness to forget? And I have so much to remember here, so much
to learn, so much to repay. The day has not hours enough for all that I
would do to tell Count Paul of my gratitude.’
“‘He speaks, then, of keeping you at the château?’
“‘He has said so from the first, though the priest wishes him to send
me to a convent in Vienna. It is dreadful when he contradicts Father
Mark, Andrea. You see, one does not learn much in the woods of Zlarin.
But I work every day, and they are very kind, and the Count is patient,
and I am never to leave them. He tells me that always.’
“I was wondering in my mind, excellency, if he had also told her
anything of that I had seen written upon his face when he spoke to me
the day before.
“‘Child,’ said I, suddenly, ‘you never loved Ugo Klun--that is, with
the love that a wife should bear towards a husband.’
“‘You know that I did not,’ she answered very quickly; ‘who was there
to tell me what love was?’
“‘True,’ said I; ‘but that needs no telling when the heart is right.
What would you say now if I told you that here in this very house you
are ready to give that which the lad Ugo wished so sorely?’
“She turned upon me, her eyes wide open in surprise and cheeks flaming
scarlet.
“‘What are you saying, Andrea?’ she cried.
“I bent down over her, and whispered the answer in her ear:
“‘That Count Paul would be very pleased to step into the shoes of Ugo
Klun.’
“‘You mean that he loves me?’ she exclaimed, starting back with the cry
on her lips.
“‘I am as certain of it, child, as of the ice on yonder lake.’
“Excellency, for some minutes she stood looking at me like a
frightened deer. Then suddenly she laid her head upon my shoulder, the
blush coming and going quickly upon her face, and said:
“‘Andrea, Andrea, I am not worthy; take me back to Zlarin.’”