"Yes, but I like this
one. What is the Charity League, dear?"
"It was a large organization gotten up by the hereditary nobles of
Russia to educate the people and better their circumstances by
discriminate charity. Of course it had to be kept secret, as the
bureaucracy is against any attempt to civilize the people--against
education or the dissemination of news. The thing was organized. We were
just getting to work when some one stole the papers of the League from
the house of Count Stepan Lanovitch and sold them to the Government. The
whole thing was broken up; Lanovitch and others were exiled, I bolted
home, and Steinmetz faced the storm alone in Osterno. He was too clever
for them, and nothing was brought home to us. But you will understand
that it is necessary for us to avoid any notoriety, to live as quietly
and privately as possible."
"Yes, of course; but--"
"But what?"
"You can never go back to Russia," said Etta slowly, feeling her ground,
as it were.
"Oh, yes, I can. I was just coming to that. I want to go back this
winter. There is so much to be done. And I want you to come with me."
"No, Paul. No, no! I couldn't do that!" cried Etta, with a ring of
horror in her voice, strangely out of keeping with her peaceful and
luxurious surroundings.
"Why not?" asked the man who had never known fear.
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