And what a letter it was! The very soul of his loved one expressed in her own quaint words.
First she told him that now she expected he knew who she was, and as they were to meet again--which in the beginning she feared might never be--all reason for her incognito was over. Then she told him--to make sure he knew--her name and kingdom. "But, sweetheart," she added, "remember this--my proudest titles ever are to be thy Loved one, and the Mother of thy son." Here Paul kissed the words, madly thrilling with pride and worship. She spoke of her still undying love, and of her anguishing sorrow all the winter at their separation, and at length the joy of their little one's arrival.
"Thy image, my Paul! English and beautiful, as I said he would be--not black and white like me. And oh! beloved, thou must always increase thy knowledge of statesmancraft to help me to train him well."
Then she made a glorious picture of their child's future, and Paul lay back in his chair and closed his eyes--the brightness of it all dazzled him--while his heart flew to her in passionate adoration. She went on to speak of their possible meeting. Her villa was but two hundred yards from the sea, only he must follow exactly all Dmitry's instructions, or there might be danger for them both; but at all costs she could not live much longer without seeing her lover.
"Thou art more than a lover now, my Paul--and I am more than ever THINE."
Thus it ended. And Paul spent most of the rest of his day reading and re-reading it, and writing his worshipping answer.
By night both he and Dmitry had started on their homeward journeys.