y grown like a cypress, you are ten times sweeter to look
at than the prettiest girl there, if she had three or even four ears. A
girl with three ears! Only think, Mandane, where could the third ear
grow?"

How heartily he laughed, and how glad he was to have hit on this jest and
have turned off a subject which might so well be painful to her! But his
mirth failed of its effect, and only brought a silent smile to her lips.
Even this died quickly away, and in its place there came such a sad,
pathetic expression, as she hung her pretty head, that he could neither
carry on the joke nor reproach her sharply. He said compassionately, with
a little shake of the head:

"But you must not look like that, my pigeon: I cannot bear it. What is it
that is weighing on your little soul? Courage, courage, sweetheart, and
make a clean breast of it!--But no! Do not speak. I can spare you that! I
know, poor little darling--it is that old story of the governor's son."

She nodded, and her eyes filled with tears; and he, with a loud sigh,
exclaimed: "I thought as much, I was right, poor child!"

He took her hand, and went on bravely:

"Yes, that has given me some bad hours, too, and a great deal to think
about; in fact, I came very near to leaving you alone and spoiling my own
happiness and yours too. But I came to my senses before it was too late.
Not on account of what Dame Joanna said the day before yesterday--though
what she says must be true, and she told me that all--you know what--was
at an end. No; my own sense told me this time; for I said to myself: Such
a motherless, helpless little thing, a slave, too, and as pretty as the
angels, her master's son took a fancy to her, how could she defend
herself? And how cruelly the poor little soul was punished!--Yes, little
one, you may well weep! Why, my own eyes are full of tears. Well, so it
had to be and so it was. You and I and the Lord Almighty and the Hosts of
Heaven--who can do anything against us?--So you see that even a poor fool
like me can understand how it all came about; and I do not accuse you,
nor have I anything to forgive. It was just a dreadful misfortune. But it
has come to a good end, thank God I and I can forget it entirely and for
ever, if only you can say: 'It is all over and done with and buried like
the dead!'"

Before he could hinder her, she snatched his hand, to her lips with
passionate affection and sobbed out:

"You are so good! Oh! Rustem, there is not a