He was entirely unabashed--he stroked his pointed silky beard for a moment, then he said calmly: "Yes--I have, you agreed that I should teach you how to shape your life as you pleased, you must remember. It is rather essential that I should know the truth of this matter before I can go further--you must see that." "We can avoid the subject." "It would be Hamlet without Hamlet, then," he smiled. "One could draw up no scheme of rules and exercises, unless one has some idea of how far the individual was responsible for the present state of things. If it was your wish in the beginning, or if you were coerced makes all the difference." Stella was silent--only she nervously plucked an offending rose which grew upon a bush beside them: she pulled its petals off and kept her eyes lowered, and Sasha Roumovski smiled a wise smile. "You have unconsciously answered me," he said, "and your agitation proves that not only are you aware that you did not become engaged of your own wish, but that you are afraid to face the fact and admit that its aspect appals you. You must remember, in your country, where, I understand, divorce is not tres bien vu, especially among the clergy, the affair is for life, and the joy or the gall of it could be infinite." She raised two beseeching eyes to his face at last. "Oh, do not let us talk about it," she pleaded. "It is so warm and pleasant here--I want to be happy." He looked at her for a while with penetrating eyes, then he said gently: "It is a man's province to take care of a woman," and his attractive voice filled with a new cadence. "I see you are in need of direction. Leave all to me--and forget there is any one else in the world for the moment but our two selves. Did you know that I thought you looked particularly sweet last night, but rather pale?" "You never looked at me at all," said Stella before she was aware of it, and then blushed crimson at the inference of her speech. He would be able to understand perfectly that she must have been observing him all the time to be conscious of this. A gleam of gladness came into his eyes. "I would like to watch you always openly, if I might," he whispered. "Your little face is like a flower in its delicate tints, and your eyes are true and tender and asking so many questions of life,--and sometimes they are veiled and misty, and then they look wise and courageous. I am beginning to know all their changes." "Then, in that case, monotony will set in," Stella was almost arch--the day was so glorious! "I am not afraid of that," he said. "I always know what I want and what is worth while. I do not value my three matchless pearls the less because I know their every iridescence--on the contrary, I grow more fond of them and wear them every night in preference to any others."