Her keen feminine instinct told her that his simple "I love you" were[190] not the idle words she pretended to think them. [190] And yet with the joy of being loved by the one who was the dearest to her own heart came also the crushing remembrance of the dreadful barrier by which she was forever shut from happiness. However, the indomitable will of her proud ancestry finally asserted itself. She sat down at her dainty writing table, and in a steady hand she wrote: "I am going away to-morrow, and I may never see you again. When this reaches you I shall be gone. Whether we meet again sometime will depend upon many things. As for those which concern me, I cannot write you now. And you? Can you not imagine obstacles for yourself? Has it not occurred to you, even now, that I—a strange woman—may be many things you had not, at first, dreamed [191]of? There are those, as you must surely know, whose business it is to roam about the centers of Europe. And for what purpose? None know their missions, or what master they may serve, except the one whose will they implicitly obey. You have told me that you love me. Are you sure, my friend, that that would not all be changed if I were some one—something—that I seemed not? Think well over this, I pray you. It may mean much to me. [191] "Meanwhile do not try to find me, for I shall be hidden far away. Some day, perhaps, you may know all." When Paul received this letter the following morning it was almost more than he could bear. How could she have misjudged him so! A longing seized him to find her—in spite of her charge. The situation was unendurable—he must seek her out and convince her that it was she[192] herself alone that mattered. What was position to him? He had position. He was endowed with worldly goods. And he could marry whom he chose. He looked at the note again. [192] What could she mean? Ah! he had it! She was a secret agent—there was no doubt—working probably in the service of the Dalmatian government. Well, for all that Paul cared nothing. The only course of action open to him was to follow her, to the ends of the world, if need be. He would convince her—she must be convinced—and then, he hoped, all would be well. She cared for him, somewhat—the tone of the letter seemed to show that—though she tried to conceal it, evidently. The
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