The first step of General Pavlowitz after the reunion with his parents was to seek leave of absence from the army to visit his wife in Kursky-Kazan. This was granted him without difficulty, in consideration of his meritorious services and his natural desire to share the joy of his advancement with his wife. With every external manifestation of joy, but with a heart filled with secret misgivings, he set out on his journey. He feared much for the result upon his wife of the revelation that he had reverted to Judaism, and hardly dared to hope that she would look with favor upon his proposition that she should accept the faith of her husband. Knowing only too well the intense aversion with which his brethren were regarded by the Russians belonging to the official Greek Church, and having often had occasion to notice with what scorn and contempt the name “Zid” was uttered by the haughty representatives of Muscovite self-conceit, he realized keenly that no greater shock could possibly be inflicted upon his Olga than the announcement that her husband was one of the despised and hated Jews. But it appeared to him that no other course was consistent with honor and rectitude, and he determined not to deviate from the straight path of duty. Often during the long and tedious journey he tried to imagine the answer which Olga would give. Sometimes he thought of her as declaring that her husband’s faith and people should be hers, and that with him she would go to the uttermost ends of the earth; at other times he imagined her saying that the faith of her fathers stood higher to her than aught else, and that she would never forsake it. But in his wildest imaginings he did not form any notion of what the actual reception of his words would be. He had determined to make his announcement immediately after his arrival at home; but when he saw the radiant face of his wife and felt her warm kiss upon his lips, his heart failed him. How could he speak words which might bring sorrow to such a beautiful and affectionate creature. He suffered himself to be carried to his splendid residence, and partook of the luxurious repast which Olga had prepared for him. He simulated gayety, and spoke with affected animation of the war and his part in it and his advancement and brilliant future prospects. He determined to make his announcement on the morrow. But on the morrow his courage had not returned, and he could not speak. He who had faced charging armies undaunted and looked death in the eye without flinching could not make a statement which might grieve the woman to whom he had given his name and who loved him so ardently. But on this day he was abstracted and dejected, and could not suppress the sighs which from time to time forced themselves from his breast. Olga could not help noticing his melancholy. That evening she determined to speak to him concerning its cause.