So the old year died, and the new one came--and soon February would be
here. Ah! with what passionate anxiety the end of that month was awaited by
Paul, only his own heart knew.




CHAPTER XXV


The days passed on, March had almost come, and Paul heard nothing. His
father noticed the daily look of strain, and his mother anxiously inquired
if he were dull, and if he would not like her to have some people to stay,
and thus divert him in some fashion. And Paul had answered with what grace
he could.

An intense temptation came over him to read all the Court news. He longed
to pick up the ladies' papers he saw in his mother's sitting-room; such
journals, he knew, delighted to publish the doings of royal lives. But the
stern self-control which now he practised in all the ruling of his life
prevented him. No, he had promised never to investigate--and neither in the
letter, nor the spirit, would he break his word, whatever the
suffering. The news, when it came, must be from his beloved one direct.

But oh! the unrest of these hours. Had their hope come true?--and how was
she? The days passed in a gnawing anxiety. He was so restless he could
hardly fix his attention on anything. It required the whole of his will to
keep him taking in the sense of the Parliamentary books which were now his
study. The constant query would raise its head between each page--"What