Kresovich was a student from Zürich, with incipient lung disease; Pani Elzen had found him on the Riviera, and engaged him as tutor for her sons, after her acquaintance with Svirski, and especially after a public declaration of the malicious and wealthy Pan Vyadrovski, that respectable houses had ceased to rear their sons as commercial travellers. Meanwhile the unlucky "Formidable" had spoiled the temper of the sensitive artist. After a time, the carriage, gritting along the stones, moved on. "You took their part, and I brought them," said Pani Elzen, with a sweet voice; "you are too kind to the boys. But one should be here during moonlight. Would you like to come to-night?" "I like to come always; but to-night there will be no moon, and of course your dinner will end late." "That is true; but let me know when the next full moon comes. It is a pity that I did not ask you alone to this dinner-- With a full moon, it must be beautiful here, though on these heights I have always a throbbing of the heart. If you could see how it throbs at this moment; but look at my pulse, you can see it even through the glove." She turned her palm, which was confined so tightly in the Danish glove as to be turned almost into a tube, and stretched it to Svirski. He took the hand in both of his, and looked at it. "No," said he; "I cannot see the pulse clearly, but perhaps I can hear it." And, inclining his head, he put his ear to the buttons of her glove; for a moment he pressed the glove firmly to his face, then touched it lightly with his lips, and said,-- "In years of childhood I was able sometimes to catch a bird, and its heart beat just this way. The beating here is just as in a captured bird!" She laughed, almost with melancholy, and repeated, "'As in a captured bird.' But what did you do with the captured birds?" "I grew attached to them, immensely. But they always flew away." "Bad birds." "And thus my life arranged itself," continued the artist, with emotion; "I have sought in vain for something which would consent to stay with me, till at last I have lost even hope." "Do not lose that; have confidence," answered Pani Elzen. Svirski thought then to himself, that, since the affair had begun so long before, there was need to end it, and let that come which God permits. He felt at the moment like a man who closes his eyes and ears with his fingers; but he felt also that it was needful to act thus, and that there was no time for hesitation. "Perhaps it would be better for you to walk a little," said he. "The carriage will follow, and, besides, we shall be able to speak more in freedom." "Very well," answered Pani Elzen, with a resigned voice.