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BY ORDER OF THE CZAR. 221

young artist again, she would cherish his memory ; and while she was feeling this rather than expressing it, even to herself, it came into her mind to think that Fate was demanding another sacrifice from her in this consent to part from him. She knew that nothing good could come of her association with him ; that if there were love pas- sages between them, they could only be for her a passing relaxation of thought, the chief charm of which would be to try and dream herself back again into the arms of Losinski in that far-off time when she was betrothed to him. But it was strange, she thought, that on the eve of seeing, as it were, the other Losinski, she should be on her way to that city of the sea they had talked of and arranged to visit together, that city which Losinski loved, which Ferrari knew so well, where Jew and Gentile were friends, as they were in London, where the ghetto was a name merely, and where " the badge of the tribe," if worn at all, was only treated as an ornament.

It was a pleasant day. The sun was shining brightly even into Charing Cross Station, and the countess, laying aside the light wrap which her maid had handed to her, was reclining in the furthest corner of her coupe, given over to her reflections, and her reflections, as we have seen, were more particularly occupied with Philip Forsyth, with whom, had circumstances permitted, she could have fallen desperately in love. This thought gave her pain and pleasure ; but she suffered the pain for the sake of the little sweetness of fancy that took off the sharp edge of the bitter. She contemplated from the carriage window the bustle of the station without seeing it. Her thoughts were in that Primrose Hill studio, and her fancy had trans- planted it to the head of the street in the Jewish quarters of Czarovna. Right in the midst of her fanciful picture of the past and the present, there was suddenly interposed the living figure of the young artist. For a moment she