Was not all this a continuance of her dream? Was she really awake yet?
The nobleman recalled his beautiful guest to the reality by begging her to partake of each of the dishes that the manager offered her; but Vera, who blushed at being waited on, scarcely eat anything at all. She was forced to admit the evidence of her senses; it was really she, the daughter of Soublaieff, who was there, opposite her lord and master.
The thought of the princess then came suddenly to her mind. She wondered why she had not yet seen her, why the prince had not taken her to his wife, and why she was not with her husband.
An instinctive fear seized upon her. She rose suddenly, and clasping her hands, her eyes filling with tears, said, in a supplicating voice:
"Pierre Alexandrowich, what have I done that you should ridicule me so? What is your will with me, your servant?"
The young girl had spoken in Russian, adding, as is the custom, to the first name of the prince the first name of his father. Pierre Olsdorf, in his turn, was for the moment taken by surprise.
He told the manager to leave the room, sent away Yvan with a gesture, and going to Vera, said in a tender voice:
"What is the matter, child? Why are you so agitated? How could you think that I wished to ridicule you?"
He had led her to a sofa, on which she sunk, trembling.
The prince went on, seating himself beside her: