English journals, too, and Henry would see it. She
could delay no longer; he must be told the truth in the next few days.

The sight of his kind, distinguished face shining with love had unnerved
her. She must tell him with all seeming indifference, and then close the
scene as quickly as she could.

While Sabine and Moravia talked in the latter's room, Moravia was full
of discomfort and anxiety. Her much loved friend appeared so strange.
She seemed to speak feverishly, as it were, to be trying to keep the
conversation upon the lightest subjects; and when Moravia asked her how
the divorce was going, she put the question aside and said that they
would speak of tiresome things like that when Christmas was over!

"But," explained the Princess, "I don't call it at all tiresome. It
means your freedom, Sabine, and then you will be able to marry Henry. He
absolutely worships the ground you tread on, and if anything had gone
wrong, I think it would have simply killed him quite."

"Yes, I know," returned Sabine. "That thought is with me day and night."

"What do you mean, darling?"

"I mean that Henry's love frightens me, Morri. How shall I ever be able
to live up to being the ideal creature he thinks that I am?" and Sabine
gave a forced laugh.

"You are not a bad sort, you know," the Princess told her. "A man would
be very hard to please if he was not quite satisfied with you!"

Moravia's own pain about the whole thing never clouded her sense of
justice. Henry's love for her friend had been manifest from the very
beginning, so she had never had any illusions or doubt about it; and if
she had been so weak and foolish as to allow herself to fall in love
with him, she must bear it and not be mean. Sabine certainly was not to
blame.

"I--hope I shall satisfy him," Sabine sighed; "but I do not know. What
does satisfy a man? Tell me, Moravia--you who understand them."

"It depends upon the man," and the Princess looked thoughtful. "I know
now that if I had been clever I could have satisfied Girolamo for ages,
by appearing to be always just a little out of his reach, so as to keep
his hunting instinct alive. When a man is a very strong, passionate
creature like that, it is the only way--make him scheme to get you to be
lovely to him, make him wait, and never be sure if you are going to let
him kiss you or no; and if you adore him really yourself, _hide it_, and
let him feel always that he has to use his wits and all his char