“Not in the least. I believe it utterly, or rather it’s a stronger thing than belief with me. I feel that it is true. I admire you for it, and all the more because it is so different from me. I want happiness and love for myself--every ounce of flesh, every drop of blood in me longs for it as well as every aspiration of my soul. It is _self_ that I am thinking of when I get like this--my own power to enjoy, and also--oh, God _knows_ that this is true!--and also the power to give joy to another. Martha, I will tell you something,” she said, with a sudden change of tone, dropping her voice, and leaning forward to take both of Martha’s hands in hers as she spoke, with her eyes fixed intently on the girl’s. “I have known this joy. I have loved supremely, and been loved. You have never tasted that cup of rapture as I have; but then you have never known, as I have, the anguish of that renunciation. Which of us is the fortunate one? If you knew how I suffer you would probably say that it is you; but if, on the other hand, you knew what ecstasy I have had, I think that you might decide differently. Oh, if God would give me one more hour of it, I think I would be content! One more hour, to take it to the full, knowing that I must, after that, come back to what I suffer now! I think those sixty joy-absorbing minutes would make up to me for everything. But to have it _never again_!” She broke off, and, hiding her face in her hands, turned away, and lay for some moments quite silent and still. She was not crying--Martha could see that; and when she presently turned, and looked at the young girl, holding out both her hands to her, although there was no smile on her face, it showed that she had conquered her dark mood, and was strong again. It was a very gentle sort of strength, however, that was not too self-sufficient to feel pleasure in the words and looks and touches of quiet sympathy which Martha gave her now. They sat there, hand in hand, for a long time; and presently the princess said, with her own beautiful smile: