I am but a prosaic fellow, with neither noble blood, nor the brain
of a genius, nor anything out of the common."

"It will be enough for my mother that we love each other," she said
shyly.

"And your uncle?"

"It will be enough for him that you are upright and honourable--
enough that you are yourself, Sigismund."

They were sitting now in a little sheltered recess clipped out of
the yew-trees. When that softly spoken "Sigismund" fell from her
lips, Zaluski caught her in his arms and kissed her again and again.

"I have led such a lonely life," he said after a few minutes, during
which their talk had baffled my comprehension. "All my people died
while I was still a boy."

"Then who brought you up?" she inquired.

"An uncle of mine, the head of our firm in St. Petersburg. He was
very good to me, but he had children of his own, and of course I
could not be to him as one of them. I have had many friends and
much kindness shown to me, but love!--none till to-day."

And then again they fell into the talk which I could not fathom.
And so I left them in their brief happiness, for my time of idleness
was over, and I was ordered to attend Mrs. Milton-Cleave without a
moment's delay.