She sat up, whisking her skirts round with one hand and rubbing her eyes with the other.
"I came to tell you about Krak—Krak's come. But you weren't here. So I lay down, and I suppose I went to sleep."
"I suppose you did. And how's Krak?"
"Just the same as ever!"
"Brought a birch with her, in case I should rebel at the last?"
Victoria laughed.
"Oh, well, you'll see her to-morrow," she remarked. "She's just the same. I'm rather glad, you know, that Krak hasn't been softened by age. It would have been commonplace."
"Besides, one doesn't want to exaggerate the power of advancing years. You didn't come for anything except to tell me about Krak?"
Victoria got up, came to me, and kissed me.
"No, nothing else," she said. She stopped a moment, and then remarked abruptly, "You're not a bit like William Adolphus."
"No?" said I, divining in a flash her thought and her purpose. "Still—have you been with Elsa to-night?"
"Yes; after Cousin Elizabeth and mother left her. You—you'll be kind to her? I told her that she was very silly, and that I wished I was going to marry you."
"Oh, you did? But she wishes to marry me?"
"She means to, of course."
"Exactly. My dear, you've waited a long while to tell me something I knew very well."
"I thought perhaps you'd be glad to see me," she said, with a little laugh. "Where have you been? Not to the Countess'?"
