" he answered smiling, and he kissed
her hand--a matter about which she could make no great ado, for it was
not the first time that he had kissed it.

But the embassy from the Grand Duke was to come in a week, and to
be received with great pomp. The ambassador was already on the way,
carrying proposals and gifts. Therefore Osra went pale and sad down
to the river bank that day, having declared again to the king that she
would live and die unmarried. But the king had laughed again. Surely
she needed kindness and consolation that sad day; but Fate had kept
by her a crowning sorrow, for she found him also almost sad. At least,
she could not tell whether he were sad or not; for he smiled and
yet seemed ill at ease, like a man who ventures a fall with fortune,
hoping and fearing. And he said to her:

"Madam, in a week I return to my own country."

She looked at him in silence with lips just parted. For her life she
could not speak; but the sun grew dark, and the river changed its
merry tune to mournful dirges.

"So the dream ends," said he. "So comes the awakening. But if life
were all a dream!" And his eyes sought hers.

"Yes," she whispered, "if life were all a dream, sir?"

"Then I should dream of two dreamers whose dream was one, and in that
dream I should see them ride together at break of day from Strelsau."

"Whither?" she murmured.

"To Paradise," said he. "But the dream ends. If it did not end--" He
paused.

"If it did not end?" a breathless longing whisper echoed.

"If it did not end now, it should not end even with death," said he.

"You see them in your dream? You see them riding--"

"Aye, swiftly, side by side, they two alone, through the morning. None
is near, none knows."

He seemed to be searching her face for something that yet he scarcely
hoped to find.

"And their dream," said he, "brings them at last to a small cottage,
and there they live--"

"They live?"

[Illustration: "'YOU ARE THE BEAUTY OF THE WORLD,' HE ANSWERED
SMILING, AND HE KISSED HER HAND."]

"And work," he added. "For she keeps his home while he works."

"What does she do?" asked Osra, with smiling, wondering eyes.

"She gets his food for him when he comes home weary in the evening,
and makes a bright fire, and--"

"Ah, and she runs to meet him at the door--oh, further than the door!"

"But she has worked hard and is weary."

"No, she is not weary," cried Osra. "It is for him!"

"The wise say this is silly talk,"