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I could not encourage her to talk about Helga’s matters, and I smoked in silence, thinking over what had dropped from her; and when Helga returned, Madame Korvata went into the house.

“She has the sweetest nature,” said Helga; “but I suppose she has been warning you. She always does.”

“Warning me?”

“She has one regret—that I do not marry. She thinks that marriage is the only proper climax for a woman’s life, and that whenever any one comes here, they come with that idea; and she always warns them that I shall never marry.”

“She suggested you might be influenced by material reasons.”

“I? How do you mean?”

“That if any man succeeded in getting you your rights, you would look upon him with very different eyes.”

Her face changed on the instant from amused astonishment to thoughtful and intense earnestness.

“You speak of what you do not know, monsieur, and will not hear. There is nothing that could be demanded of me, no sacrifice however complete or ruinous, no danger however deadly, I would not face for that. That is my real life—all else is a mere setting and pretence.”