Page:Wanda, by Ouida.djvu/12

Rh awhile, yet he loved his ňfe too passionately to quit her without pain. His own con^cience made her presence at times oppress and trouble him, yet he had never lost the half-religious adoration with which she had first inspired him. He suggested a compromise—why should they not winter in Paris?

She was about to dissent, for of all seasons in the Tauern she loved the winter besí ; but rhen she looked at bim she saw šuch eager anticipation on his íace that she suppressed her own wishes unuttered.

' We will go, if you hke/ she said, without any hesitation or reluctance visible. ' I dare say we can íind some pretty house. Aunt Ottilie will be pleased; there is nothing here which cannot do without us for a time, we háve šuch trusty stewards ; only I think it would be more change for you if you went alone.'

' No ! ' he said ; ' separation is a sort of death ; do not let us tempt fate by it. Life is sa short at its longest ; it is ingratitude to lóse an hour that we can spend together.'

' There was never šuch a lover since Petrarca,' she said, with a smile* ' Nay, you ecUpse him : he was never tried by marríage.'

But thoughs he jested at it, his great love for her seemed like a beautiful Ľght about her life. AVhat did his state-secret matter ? What