Princess Anna, bidding her maid good-by, disappeared into the night. The next morning the old princess learned of the flight. Already ill, she fell fainting to the floor, and for a long time her condition was critical. She regained consciousness, tried to find words to express her anger, and again swooned away. Day and night, three women watched over her, her son's old nurse, her maid, and Natasha, who took turns in waiting on her. Things continued thus for forty-eight hours. Finally, on the night of the third day she came to herself. It was Natasha's watch. "And you knew? You knew she was going?" the old princess asked her fiercely. The girl started, unable at first to collect her thoughts, and looked up frightened. The dim flicker of the night light lit her pale face and golden hair, and fell also on the grim, emaciated face of the old princess, whose eyes glittered feverishly under her thick brows. "You knew my daughter was going to run away?" repeated the old woman, fixing her keen eyes on Natasha's face, trying to raise herself from among the lace-fringed pillows. "I knew," the girl answered in a half whisper, lowering her eyes in confusion, and trying to throw off her first impression of terror. "Why did you not tell me before?" the old woman continued, even more fiercely. Natasha had now recovered her composure, and raising her eyes with an expression of innocent distress, she answered: "Princess Anna hid everything from me also, until the very last. How dare I tell you? Would you have believed me? It was not my business, your excellency!" The old princess shook her head, smiling bitterly and incredulously. "Snake!" she hissed fiercely, looking at the girl; and then she added quickly: "Did any of the others know?" "No one but myself!" answered Natasha. "Never dare to speak of her again! Never dare!" cried the old princess, and once more she sank back unconscious on the pillows. About noon the next day she again came to herself, and ordered her son to be called. He came in quietly, and affectionately approached his mother. The princess dismissed her maid, and remained alone with her son. "You have no longer a sister!" she cried, turning to her son, with the nervous spasm which returned each time she spoke of her daughter. "She is dead for us! She has disgraced us! I curse her! You, you alone are my heir!" At these words the young prince pricked up his ears and bent even more attentively toward his mother. The news of his sole heirship was so pleasant and unexpected that he did not even think of asking how his sister had disgraced them, and only said with a deep sigh: "Oh, mamma, she was always opposed to you. She never loved you!" "I shall make a will in your favor," continued the princess, telling him as briefly as possible of Princess Anna's flight. "Yes, in your favor--only on one condition: that you will never recognize your sister. That is my last wish!"