as they met his.

"I do not say," continued her companion, "that I love you as boys love at
twenty. I am past that. I am not a young man any more, and I have had
misfortunes such as would have broken the hearts of most men, and of the
kind that do not dispose to great love-passion. If my troubles had come to
me through the love of a woman--it might have been otherwise. As it is--do
you think that I have no love for you, Vjera? Do not think that, dear--do
not let me see that you think it, for it would hurt me. There is much for
you, much, very much."

"To-day," answered Vjera, sadly, "but not to-morrow."

"You are cruel, without meaning to be even unkind," said the Count in an
unsteady voice. This time it was Vjera who took his hand in hers and
pressed it.

"God forbid that I should have an unkind thought for you," she said, very
tenderly.

The Count turned to her again and there was a moisture in his eyes of
which he was unconscious.

"Then believe that I do truly love you, Vjera," he answered. "Believe that
all that there is to give you, I give, and that my all is not a little. I
love you, child, in a way--ah, well, you have your girlish dreams of love,
and it is right that you should have them and it would be very wrong to
destroy them. But they shall not be destroyed by me, and surely not by any
other man, while I live. I shall grow young again, I will grow young for
you, for, in years at least, I am not old. I will be a boy for you, Vjera,
and I will love as boys love, but with the strength of a man who has known
sorrow and overlived it. You shall not feel that in taking me you are
taking a father, a protector, a man to whom your youth seems childhood,
and your youthfulness childish folly. No, no--I will be more than that to
you, I will be all to you that you are to me, and more, and more, each
day, till love has made us of one age, of one mind, of one heart. Do you
not believe that all this shall be? Speak, dear. What is there yet behind
in your thoughts?"

"I cannot tell. I wish I knew." Vjera's answer was scarcely audible and
she turned her face from him.

"And yet, there is something, you are keeping something from me, when I
have kept nothing from you. Why is it? Why do you not quite trust me and
believe in me? I can make you happy, now. Yesterday it was different and
so it was in all the yesterdays of yesterdays. I had nothing to offer you
but myself."

"It were best so," said Vjera in a low voice.