break this awkward
silence, "that what Natalie says is true. She is not going to be so idle
as all that. No; she has plenty of hard work before her--at least, I
think it hard work--translating from the German into Polish."

"I wish I could help," Brand said, in a low voice. "I do not know a word
of Polish."

"You help?" she said, regarding him with the beautiful dark eyes, that
had a sudden wonder in them. "Would you, if you knew Polish?"

He met that straight, fearless glance without flinching; and he said
"Yes," while they still looked at each other. Then her eyes fell; and
perhaps there was the slightest flush of embarrassment, or pleasure, on
the pale, handsome face.

But how quickly her spirits rose! There was no more talk of politics as
they neared England. He described the successive ships to her; he called
her attention to the strings of wild-duck flying up Channel; he named
the various headlands to her. Then, as they got nearer and nearer, the
little Anneli had to be sought out, and the various travelling
impedimenta got together. It did not occur to Mr. Lind or his daughter
as strange that George Brand should be travelling without any luggage
whatever.

But surely it must have occurred to them as remarkable that a bachelor
should have had a saloon-carriage reserved for himself--unless, indeed,
they reflected that a rich Englishman was capable of any whimsical
extravagance. Then, no sooner had Miss Lind entered this carriage, than
it seemed as though everything she could think of was being brought for
her. Such flowers did not grow in railway-stations--especially in the
month of March. Had the fruit dropped from the telegraph-poles? Cakes,
wine, tea, magazines and newspapers appeared to come without being asked
for.

"Mr. Brand," said Natalie, "you must be an English Monte Cristo: do you
clap your hands, and the things appear?"

But a Monte Cristo should never explain. The conjuror who reveals his
mechanism is no longer a conjuror. George Brand only laughed, and said
he hoped Miss Lind would always find people ready to welcome her when
she reached English shores.

As they rattled along through those shining valleys--the woods and
fields and homesteads all glowing in the afternoon sun--she had put
aside her travelling-cloak and hood, for the air was quite mild. Was it
the drawing off of the hood, or the stir of wind on board the steamer,
that had somewhat disarranged her hair?--at all events, here and