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Again Madam Manovska addressed her daughter, and Amalia said: "She thinks this high mountain and the plain below, and that we are exile from our own land, makes her think of this; only that the conscience has never for her brought terror, like for Cain, but only to those who have so long persecuted my father with imprisonment, and drive him so far to terrible places.
Then he sat up, and taking the material between his fingers felt of it, while the big man looked down on him, gravely discomfited. "And what did you bring for Madam Manovska?" "Black, man, black. I'm no fool, I tell you. I know what's discreet for an elderly lady." Then they gravely and laboriously folded together the yards of gorgeous satin.
"What is right, that must be. Always." Then they spoke again of Madam Manovska, and Amalia opened her heart to him as never before. It seemed as if she would turn his thoughts from whatever sorrow might be hanging over him, and impress him with the feeling that no matter what might be the cause of his reserve, or what wrong he might have done, her faith in him remained unshaken.
For a time Amalia tried to prevent Madam Manovska from dwelling on the past, until she became convinced that to do so was not well, since it only induced the fits of brooding. She then decided to encourage her mother to speak freely of her memories, rather than to keep them locked in her own mind.
He left Oxford to go to Russia, wild with the spirit of adventure and something more. He was a dreamer with a practical turn, too. There, no doubt, he met these people. I judge this Manovska must have been in the diplomatic service of Poland, from what Amalia told us. Have you any idea whether that woman sitting there all day long rapt in her own thoughts knows her husband's secret?
"I am afraid 'Arry King. Oh, if if they are there still! Those Indian! Do not go there." "But they are gone; I have been in and they are not there. I won't take you into that place until I have made it fit for you again. Sit here awhile. Amalia Manovska, I can't see you weep." So tenderly he spoke her name, with quivering lips, reverently. With all his power he held himself and would dare no more.
While Amalia lay recovering from the sprained ankle, which proved to be a serious hurt, Madam Manovska continued to improve. She took up the duties which had before occupied Amalia only, and seemed to grow more cheerful.
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