"Forgive me, holy father," said Pierre Olsdorf with great deference but in a firm tone, "if I can not follow you in the way of conciliation that you are so good as to point out to madame and me. Things have come to such a pass that we can not either of us retrace our steps. It would be best, I think, to shorten this scene, which is equally painful to both of us. What you reproach me with imposes upon me an obligation which my honor, and of it I am the only judge, will not allow me to shrink from."
Pope Wasilieff did not think he ought to insist further. Perhaps he knew more of the facts than the princess imagined. He said, then, addressing her:
"It only remains for me, madame, to put to you this question: Do you persist in your petition?"
"I persist, holy father," replied Lise Olsdorf, in a stifled voice.
"Then you may retire. With deep sorrow I shall inform the Consistory at St. Petersburg of the defeat of my attempts to reconcile the prince and you."
The princess rose and walked out of the room, lowering her veil. Soon afterward she reached her home, at the moment that her husband arrived at the house in the Rue Auber, where the daughter of his farmer Soublaieff still was.
The pretty Vera was greatly changed. Since the night when she played a part so completely unforeseen by her, everything had tended to add to her uneasiness—the events that succeeded this evening and were not without mystery for her, and also the bearing of the prince toward her.
It will be remembered that, on returning to the bed-chamber where the commissary of police had appeared to bear witness against him as having been found in flagrante delicto, the prince had asked for Vera's forgiveness, and that she, letting her head sink upon his shoulder, replied: "Are not you the master; am not I the slave?"
This was more than an act of submission to his will on the part of the young girl; it was an avowal of the passion that had seized on her wholly, and against which she did not try to struggle—out of the deep love to which her very innocence delivered her without defense.
Chaste as her abandon was to the feeling, the prince was deeply moved by it. He remembered that a few minutes earlier, when the knocking came at the door of the bedroom, and she feared some danger for him, Vera had wound her arms about his neck.