“I care very little for my own happiness,” said Martha, too absorbed to realize that she was saying anything that called for comment. “All that I care for is to give Harold a little comfort and calm. He can never be happy again.” “He tells you so, dear child, and no doubt he believes it. _I_ tell you it will pass. Men do not grieve perpetually for women. I know them better than you do.” “You do not know this man. If you imagine that he is like any other man in the world, you are wrong. He could not get over this sorrow and be the man that he is. It is simply a thing impossible to him. Not that he shows it! It has been two years since it happened, and no doubt every one except myself thinks he has recovered. I dare say he wants to have it so, and he’s generally cheerful and bright. Even to me he never says a word, but I think he knows that I understand. At all events, he knows that, though it is the desire of my life to go and live with him, I would never do him the wrong to suppose that I could make him happy.” “He has, then, it would seem, the same ardent temperament as yours. Dear me! how odd it would be to see a man like that in this [Illustration: IN THE AMERICAN COLONY.] generation! Was this woman very cruel to him that you resent it so?” “Resent it!” said Martha, dropping her companion’s hand, to clasp her own hands together. “Even to you I can’t talk about that. I should either cry like a fool or rage like a fury. I know very little about what happened, except that she has utterly ruined Harold’s life, and cut him off from everything that makes life sweet.” “You allow yourself to suffer too much for him, perhaps,” the princess said. “I am not going to antagonize you at the outset by saying all that I might say to you on this subject, but believe me, my little _ingénue_, I could give you points about men. I will not do it now, however, and I will even show my willingness to spare you by changing the subject. Tell me about Alice. Is she really so handsome? Does she go into society? Where could one see her?” “Yes; she goes out a good deal--in the American colony, principally. I don’t think there is any doubt that she’s handsome.” “Then I’m all the more unfortunate in having no acquaintance in the American colony. Does she look like you?” “No; the fact is--” Martha blushed, and was in evident confusion, as she went on--“the fact is, I’m considered like Harold. Not really, you know, because no one can deny that he’s magnificent; but there’s said to be a sort of family likeness.” “Well, I can believe that, my dear, without absolute insult to your brother. Is Alice much admired?” “Yes, a good deal; but she’s engaged now, and so she is not noticed as much as she was.” “Oh, she’s engaged, is she? And when is she to be married?”