I am inclined
to think that even if she was--or is still--a Turkish ship, Admiral Rooke
would not be inclined to let her go. As for Captain Desmond, I think he
would go straight out of his mind if such a thing was to be even
suggested to him. It will be a pity if we have any more trouble, for life here is very
happy with us all now. The Voivode is, I think, like a man in a dream. Teuta is ideally happy, and the real affection which sprang up between
them when she and Aunt Janet met is a joy to think of. I had posted
Teuta about her, so that when they should meet my wife might not, by any
inadvertence, receive or cause any pain. But the moment Teuta saw her
she ran straight over to her and lifted her in her strong young arms,
and, raising her up as one would lift a child, kissed her. Then, when
she had put her sitting in the chair from which she had arisen when we
entered the room, she knelt down before her, and put her face down in her
lap. Aunt Janet's face was a study; I myself could hardly say whether at
the first moment surprise or joy predominated. But there could be no
doubt about it the instant after. She seemed to beam with happiness. When Teuta knelt to her, she could only say:

"My dear, my dear, I am glad! Rupert's wife, you and I must love each
other very much." Seeing that they were laughing and crying in each
other's arms, I thought it best to come away and leave them alone. And I
didn't feel a bit lonely either when I was out of sight of them. I knew
that where those two dear women were there was a place for my own heart. When I came back, Teuta was sitting on Aunt Janet's knee. It seemed
rather stupendous for the old lady, for Teuta is such a splendid creature
that even when she sits on my own knee and I catch a glimpse of us in
some mirror, I cannot but notice what a nobly-built girl she is. My wife was jumping up as soon as I was seen, but Aunt Janet held her
tight to her, and said:

"Don't stir, dear. It is such happiness to me to have you there. Rupert
has always been my 'little boy,' and, in spite of all his being such a
giant, he is so still. And so you, that he loves, must be my little
girl--in spite of all your beauty and your strength--and sit on my knee,
till you can place there a little one that shall be dear to us all, and
that shall let me feel my youth again. When first I saw you I was
surprised, for, somehow, though I had never seen you nor even heard of
you, I seemed to know your face. Sit where you are, dear. It is only
Rupert--and we both love him." Teuta looked at me, flushing rosily; but she sat quiet, and drew the old
lady's white head on her young breast. JANET MACKELPIE'S NOTES. _July_ 8, 1907. I used to think that whenever Rupert should get married or start on the
way to it by getting engaged--I would meet his future wife with something
of the same affection that I have always had for himself. But I know now
that what was really in my mind was _jealousy_, and that I was really
fighting against my own instincts, and pretending to myself that I was
not jealous. Had I ever had the faintest idea that she would be anything
the least like Teuta, that sort of feeling should never have had even a
foothold. No wonder my dear boy is in love with her, for, truth to tell,
I am in love with her myself. I don't think I ever met a creature--a
woman creature, of course, I mean--with so many splendid qualities. I
almost fear to say it, lest it should seem to myself wrong; but I think
she is as good as a woman as Rupert is as a man. And what more than that
can I say? I thought I loved her and trusted her, and knew her all I
could, until this morning. I was in my own room, as it is still called. For, though Rupert tells me
in confidence that under his uncle's will the whole estate of Vissarion,
Castle and all, really belongs to the Voivode, and though the Voivode has
been persuaded to accept the position, he (the Voivode) will not allow
anything to be changed. He will not even hear a word of my going, or
changing my room, or anything. And Rupert backs him up in it, and Teuta
too. So what am I to do but let the dears have their way? Well, this morning, when Rupert was with the Voivode at a meeting of the
National Council in the Great Hall, Teuta came to me, and (after closing
the door and bolting it, which surprised me a little) came and knelt down
beside me, and put her face in my lap. I stroked her beautiful black
hair, and said:

"What is it, Teuta darling? Is there any trouble? And why did you bolt
the door? Has anything happened to Rupert?" When she looked up I saw
that her beautiful black eyes, with the stars in them, were overflowing
with tears not yet shed. But she smiled through them, and the tears did
not fall. When I saw her smile my heart was eased, and I said without
thinking: "Thank God, darling, Rupert is all right." "I thank God, too, dear Aunt Janet!" she said softly; and I took her in
my arms and laid her head on my breast. "Go on, dear," I said; "tell me what it is that troubles you?" This time
I saw the tears drop, as she lowered her head and hid her face from me. "I'm afraid I have deceived you, Aunt Janet, and that you will
not--cannot--forgive me." "Lord save you, child!" I said, "there's nothing that you could do that I
could not and would not forgive. Not that you would ever do anything
base, for that is the only thing that is hard to forgive. Tell me now
what troubles you." She looked up in my eyes fearlessly, this time with only the signs of
tears that had been, and said proudly:

"Nothing base, Aunt Janet. My father's daughter would not willingly be
base. I do not think she could. Moreover, had I ever done anything base
I should not be here, for--for--I should never have been Rupert's wife!" "Then what is it? Tell your old Aunt Janet, dearie." She answered me
with another question:

"Aunt Janet, do you know who I am, and how I first met Rupert?" "You are the Voivodin Teuta Vissarion--the daughter of the Voivode--Or,
rather, you were; you are now Mrs. Rupert Sent Leger. For he is still an
Englishman, and a good subject of our noble King." "Yes, Aunt Janet," she said, "I am that, and proud to be it--prouder than
I would be were I my namesake, who was Queen in the old days. But how
and where did I see Rupert first?" I did not know, and frankly told her
so. So she answered her question herself:

"I saw him first in his own room at night." I knew in my heart that in
whatever she did had been nothing wrong, so I sat silent waiting for her
to go on:

"I was in danger, and in deadly fear. I was afraid I might die--not that
I fear death--and I wanted help and warmth. I was not dressed as I am
now!" On the instant it came to me how I knew her face, even the first time I
had seen it. I wished to help her out of the embarrassing part of her
confidence, so I said:

"Dearie, I think I know. Tell me, child, will you put on the frock . . . the dress . . . costume you wore that night, and let me see you in it?