I was dumb with shame at her words. How well I remembered that first
evening in the house, when I could not but see that something was
expected of me, yet never ventured to ask for enlightment!

Presently, recovering from her tears, she went from the room, and, left
alone, I was more than ever filled with wonder at what she had told me.
I had not imagined that she had come into the world without a mother;
nevertheless, the fact that this passionless girl, who had told me that
there was only one kind of love, was the daughter of a woman actually
living in the house, of whose existence I had never before heard, except
in an indirect way which I failed to understand, seemed like a dream to
me. Now I was about to see this hidden woman, and the interview would
reveal something to me, for I would discover in her face and
conversation whether she was in the same mystic state of mind as the
others, which made them seem like the dwellers in some better place than
this poor old sinful, sorrowful world. My wishes, however, were not to
be gratified, for presently Yoletta returned and said that her mother
did not desire to see me then. She looked so distressed when she told me
this, putting her white arms about my neck as if to console me for my
disappointment, that I refrained from pressing her with questions, and
for several days nothing more was spoken between us on the subject.

At length, one day when our lesson was over, with an expression of
mingled pleasure and anxiety on her face, she rose and took my hand,
saying, "Come."

I knew she was going to take me to her mother, and rose to obey her
gladly, for since the conversation I had had with her the desire to know
the lady of the house had given me no peace.