"Is it not a pity? Confess that nothing would be more adorable than the mysterious phases of such a love, exalted as hope, passionate as desire, and yet legitimate and authorised. The day on which the young wife, after a prolonged courtship, inspired by passion, should confirm by a tender avowal those rights so ardently desired, which her husband would accept solely from her,--that day would be treasured in her heart as an entrancing and enduring memory. When she had thus freely bestowed herself she would find later that the gallantry and temptations of the world pale before the memory of that dazzling, ardent happiness ever present to her mind. Such a memory would assuredly protect a woman from all sinful allurements, which could never offer to her the ineffable rapture which she had found in a sacred and legitimate union." Whilst I was talking, Madame de Fersen regarded me with increasing astonishment. At last she said: "Do you really hold on marriage views of such excessive delicacy?" "Assuredly, madame, or at least I borrow them for my prediction from the man who some day shall be so fortunate as to be entrusted with your daughter's happiness. Do you not think that a husband such as I predict for her, handsome, young, well born, intellectual, attractive, who should hold these opinions, do you not think that he would offer the greatest possibilities for durable happiness? I am sure that Mlle. Irene is endowed with all those precious gifts of the soul which can inspire and appreciate such a love." "Of course, it is but a beautiful dream; but I must repeat that I am greatly astonished that you should have such dreams," she said to me, with a slightly mocking air. "And why, madame?" "What! you, monsieur, who came to the Orient to seek the idealisation of material life!" "It is true," I murmured, gazing at her fixedly; "but I renounced that life from the moment when chance brought to my knowledge, and gave me the opportunity of adoring, an idealisation of its opposites, of intellect, grace, and love." Madame de Fersen looked at me severely. I do not know what she was about to say, when her husband entered and asked me if I knew an air called "Anacreon and Polycrates." Since the day on which the avowal passed my lips, Madame de Fersen seemed carefully to avoid remaining alone with me, although before our travelling companions her manner was unchanged. Thanks to the singular affection, however, with which I had inspired Irene, the princess found it difficult to carry out her project. Whether I appeared on deck or in the saloon, the child took me by the hand, and led me to Madame de Fersen, saying: "Come, I like to see you with my mother." At first I could hardly refrain from smiling at Madame de Fersen's vexation at being thus forced into a tête-à-tête which she desired to avoid.