rent ways? I know that different men
love differently."

"But cannot one heart love in different ways?" he smiled.

"May be," said Osra thoughtfully, "one heart can have loved." But then
she suddenly looked up at him with a mischievous sparkle in her eyes.
"No, no," she cried; "it was not love. It was--"

"What was it?"

"The courtiers entertained me till the king came," she said with a
blushing laugh. And looking up at him again, she whispered: "Yet I am
glad that you lingered for a little."

At this moment she saw the king come out on to the terrace, and
with him was the Bishop of Modenstein; and after the bishop had been
presented to the Grand Duke, the king began to talk with the Grand
Duke, while the bishop kissed Osra's hand and wished her joy.

"Madam," said he, "once you asked me if I could make you understand
what love was. I take it you have no need for my lessons now. Your
teacher has come."

"Yes, he has come," she said gently, looking on the bishop with great
friendliness. "But tell me, will he always love me?"

"Surely he will," answered the bishop.

"And tell me," said Osra, "shall I always love him?"

"Surely," said the bishop again, most courteously. "Yet, indeed,
madam," he continued, "it would seem almost enough to ask of Heaven to
love now and now to be loved. For the years roll on, and youth goes,
and even the most incomparable beauty will yield its blossoms when
the season wanes; yet that sweet memory may ever be fresh and young,
a thing a man can carry to his grave and raise as her best monument on
his lady's tomb."

"Ah, you speak well of love," said she. "I marvel that you speak so
well of love. For it is as you say; and to-day in the wood it seemed
to me that I had lived enough, and that even Death was but Love's
servant as Life is, both purposed solely for his better ornament."

"Men have died because they loved you, madam, and some yet live who
love you," said the bishop.

"And shall I grieve for both, my lord--or for which?"

"For neither, madam; for the dead have gained peace, and they who live
have escaped forgetfulness."

"But would they not be happier for forgetting?"

"I do not think so," said the bishop; and, bowing low to her again, he
stood back, for he saw the king approaching with the Grand Duke; and
the king took him by the arm, and walked on with him; but Osra's face
lost the brief pensiveness that had come upon it as she talked with
the bishop, and, turning