Deep in her heart Olga exalted duty before every other virtue, and the duty of a loyal wife before every other duty. She could feel now the crumbling away of all her principles. She had believed for six years that she had given to Herman every bit of her love and loyalty, and now she was forced to the self-confession that she had lived a lie, even to herself. She loved Karl.
But, away from Millar's influence, she resolved that she would yet battle with and overcome the terrible impulses he had aroused. She would make the artist love the beautiful, accomplished girl whom she herself had selected for his bride. She would make him happy; make them both happy, even if it meant that she must crush out her own hopes of happiness in doing so.
"That is a very remarkable man, that friend of Karl's," Herman said after they had driven some time in silence.
"Yes; he is very disagreeable," Olga replied.
"Oh, I don't think so," Herman protested. "To me he seemed very agreeable. Where does he come from? He seems to have been everywhere and to know everybody."
"And everything," assented Olga wearily. "I cannot tell you anything about him. Karl met him a year ago at Monte Carlo."
"I am glad you persuaded him to come to-night," Herman said. "He is going to give me information that will be of great value to me."
Olga was on the point of telling Herman all about the terrible sermon the stranger had preached to them; of his wicked insinuations and of her terrible dread, but she checked herself. Herman seemed fatuously delighted by Millar, and she could not bring herself to talk to him now. They continued the ride in silence until home was reached.