task. But how can I tell him that
you have this other project in your mind? Oh, my dear, be cautious!
don't do anything you will have to repent of in after-years!"

"You need not tell him, dear Madame Potecki, if you are alarmed," said
the girl. "I will tell him myself, when I have come to a decision. So
you cannot say what one ought to do in such circumstances? You cannot
tell me what my mother, for example, would have done in such a case?"

"Oh, I can; I can, my dear," said the other, eagerly. "At least I can
tell you what is best and safest. Is it not for a girl to go by her
father's advice--her father's wishes? Then she is safe. Anything else is
wild, dangerous. My dear, you are far too impulsive. You do not think of
consequences. It is all the affair of the moment with you, and how you
can do some one you love a kindness at the instant. Your heart is warm,
and you are quick to act. All the more reason, I say, that you should go
by some one else's judgment; and who can guide you better than your own
father?"

"I know already what my father wishes," said Natalie.

"Then why not go by that, my dear? Be sure it is the safest. Do you
think I would take it on me to say otherwise? Ah, my clear child,
romance is very beautiful at your age; but one may sacrifice too much
for it."

"It is not a question of romance at all," said Natalie, looking down.
"It is a question of what it is right that a girl should do, in
faithfulness to one whom she loves. But perhaps it is better not to
argue it, for one sees so differently at different ages. And I am very
grateful to you, dear Madame Potecki, for agreeing to take that message
to my father; but I will tell him myself."

She rose. The little woman came instantly and caught her by both hands.

"Is my child going to quarrel with me because I am old and
unsympathetic?"

"Oh no; do not think that!" said Natalie, quickly.

"What you say is quite true, my dear; different ages see differently.
When I was at your age, perhaps I was as liable as anyone to let my
heart get the better of my head. And do I regret it?" The little woman
sighed. "Many a time they warned me against marrying one who did not
stand well with the authorities. But I--I had my opinions, too; I was a
patriot, like the rest. We were all mad with enthusiasm. Ah, the secret
meetings in Warsaw!--the pride of them!--we girls would not marry one
who was not a patriot. But that is all over now; and here am I an old
w