He had come, he explained, not to meet Felix, whose arrival he had not certainly expected, but to greet the ladies, bear to them the Governor's pressing invitation, and escort them to Nicolashof. It was better luck than that coxcomb of a brother deserved. He had telegraphed in a fit of panic. Had he been going to die he would have been three times dead before they could reach him. He had merely been ill. What would you? Men got well again. Was it a journey for ladies? It was thanks to the saints that Felix had been at hand to protect them. A mad scheme. He grumbled on. "Miss Leigh has taken no harm," said Felix, dully, "so why make such a song about it? All is well." "Is all well?" said Vronsky, sulkily. "This girl who has come so far, who has preferred him to you--she is to find out something if she has eyes. Does she love him? Is her happiness bound up in him? For, if so, she is to be made very miserable." Felix turned crimson. "What do you mean?" "I mean what I say. But why did you not have two carriages? I suppose you sent back the other at the last posting-house?" "No, little father, we have come in one. Miss Rawson has not come at all. She lies ill at St. Petersburg. Miss Leigh has come alone. I don't know what would have happened to her, had I not chanced upon her at Gretz." Vronsky stared. "Is it possible?" Felix, with a thousand questions fighting to be uttered, choked and was silent. "Come and see her," he said, after a minute or two. He went up to the carriage, said a word, and Rona rose, gave him her hand, and alighted to greet Vronsky. There was a hint of something tragic in her beauty which made an instant appeal to the emotional heart of the Russian. Ah, here indeed was the woman for his Felix! Yet she had preferred the ignoble little neat-mannered man up at Nicolashof--the man who was flirting deeply, dangerously, with Nadia, while he awaited the coming of this courageous girl. "Madam, I greet you. You are a brave lady," he said, gravely, in English; and the girl's eyes filled with tears as she grasped his hand. "I hope--I trust--that Mr. Vanston is quite recovered?" she faltered. "I mean, that he is much better? I have been in deep anxiety." "He is as well as ever he was in his life," said Vronsky, "and as well amused. That is the truth. The Governor and his daughter have truly Russian notions of hospitality. They bade me bring you to them, mademoiselle. Will you go?" "No," said Rona. "Unless you say that I must, I will not go. I would rather stay with you, please, if you are so kind as to make room for me. Mr. Vanston can come and see me at your house. I have no claim upon the kindness of these strangers." "Our house will be more dear to us ever after if its roof has sheltered your beautiful head, mademoiselle," said Vronsky, with deep conviction.