“I will forgive him; I do,” said Nadia.
“Marraine,” said Nadia the next morning, “I know why you took me to Count Wratisloff’s last night.”
“I hoped you might hear something to help you, my child,” the Princess answered. “Is your difficulty gone?”
“If I saw Lord Cyril now,” said Nadia, slowly, little thinking that it would not be long before she had an opportunity of proving the truth of her words, “ill or in any trouble, I should feel so sorry for him that I would nurse him, or do anything I could to help him. And yesterday I am afraid I should have been glad.”
“And you are happier now, my child?”
“So happy, Marraine, that I want you to find me some other work to do,—a class of little girls, perhaps, to teach. I don’t want to keep my happiness to myself. I can never feel really hopeless or miserable again.”
“Take care, dear child,” said the Princess; then, her thoughts reverting to the Scythian translation of the ‘Pilgrim’s Progress’ which she was reading, she went on, “Christian’s path to the Celestial City was not all smooth, even after he had lost his burden. There was the Hill Difficulty, and the fight with Apollyon, and Vanity Fair, and Doubting Castle. And there is always oneself to fight against.”
Although Nadia, in her eagerness, was scarcely willing to listen to a forecast that seemed to her so gloomy, there came very soon to the Cercle Evangélique a loss such as that which parted Christian from Faithful. The first intimation of it reached Princess Soudaroff’s household on the Thursday morning, when, as the ladies were at breakfast, they heard a voice inquiring for Pauline Vassilievna, and shortly afterwards the servant announced Vladimir Alexandrovitch, and ushered in Prince Soudaroff.
“Pray don’t let me disturb you, ladies,” he said to Nadia and Marie Karlovna, who had risen at his entrance, after a general greeting. “My business is not private. I come merely to bring my sister-in-law a piece of news. Anton Gregorievitch is exiled.”
“Hyperborea?” gasped the three ladies at once.