But later, at dinner, it seemed as if a new and more radiant light than ever glowed on her face. She was gay and caressing, telling him merry tales of Paris and its plays. It was as if she meant to efface all suggestion of sorrow or pain--and gradually the impression wore off in Paul's mind, and ere it came to their sipping the golden wine, all was brightness and peace. "See," she said, looking from the window just before they retired to rest, "the sky has stopped crying, and there are our stars, sweetheart, come out to wish us good-night. Ah! for us tomorrow once more will be a glorious day." "My Queen," said Paul; "rain or fine, all days are glorious to me, so long as I have you to clasp in my arms. You are my sun, moon and stars--always, for ever." She laughed a laugh, the silver echo of satisfaction and joy. "Sweet Paul," she lisped mischievously, "so good you have been, so gentle with my moods. You must have some reward. Listen, beloved while I tell it to you." But what she said is written in his heart! CHAPTER XII His lady was so intensely _soignée_--that is what pleased Paul. He had never thought about such things, or noticed them much in other women, but she was a revelation. No Roman Empress with her bath of asses' milk could have had a more wonderful toilet than she. And ever she was illusive, and he never quite got to the end of her mystery. Always there was a veil, when he least expected it, and so these hours for the most part were passed at the boiling-point of excitement and bliss. The experiences of another man's whole lifetime Paul was going through in the space of days. It was the Monday following the wet Sunday when an incident happened which soon came back to him, and gave him food for reflection. They would spend the day in the launch, she decided, going whither they wished, stopping here to pick gentians, going there under the shadow of trees--landing where and when they desired--even sleeping at Flüclen if the fancy took them to. Anna was sent on with their things in case this contingency occurred. And earth, water and sky seemed smiling them a welcome. Just before they started, Dmitry, after the gentlest tap, noiselessly entered Paul's room. Paul was selecting some cigars from a box, and looked up in surprise as the stately servant cautiously closed the door. "Yes, Dmitry, what is it?" he said half impatiently. Dmitry advanced, and now Paul saw that he carried something in his hand. He bowed low with his usual courtly respect. Then he stammered a little as he began to speak. The substance of his sentence, Paul gathered, was that the Excellency would not be inconveniencing himself too much, he hoped, if he would consent to carry this pistol. A very good pistol, he assured him, which would take but little room. Paul's surprise deepened. Carry a pistol in peaceful Switzerland! It seemed too absurd. "What on earth for, my friend?" he said.