“In a lunatic asylum? Ah, the scoundrels! oh, the inhuman wretches! Ah, the low cunning of them! Yes, Prince; I had heard of it. But the lunacy was in these people, not in _you_. Why, _why_ was it—what for?” “I don’t know myself, what it was for,” replied the poor old man, feebly sinking into his chair; “I was at a ball, don’t you know, and told some an—ecdote or other and they didn’t like it; and so they got up a scandal and a ro—ow.” “Surely that was not all, Prince?” “No;—the—I was playing cards with Prince Paul De—mentieff, and I was cleared out: you see, I had two kings and three quee—ns, three kings and two qu—eens; or I should say—one king—and some queens—I know I had——.” “And it was for this? Oh, the hellish inhumanity of some people! You are weeping, Prince; but be of good cheer—it is all over now! Now I shall be at hand, dearest Prince,—I shall not leave Zina; and we shall see which of them will dare to say a word to you, _then_! And do you know, my Prince, your marriage will expose them! it will shame them! They will see that you are a man—that a lovely girl like our Zina would never have married a madman! You shall raise your head proudly now, and look them straight in the face!” “Ye—yes; I shall look them straight in the f—ace!” murmured the prince, slowly shutting his eyes. Maria Alexandrovna saw that her work was done: the prince was tired out with love and emotion. She was only wasting her eloquence! “Prince, you are disturbed and tired, I see you are!” she said; “you must rest, you must take a good rest after so much agitation,” she added, bending over him maternally. “Ye—yes, ye—yes; I should like to lie down a little,” said the old man. “Of course, of course! you must lie down! those agitating scenes——stop, I will escort you myself, and arrange your couch with my own hands! Why are you looking so hard at that portrait, Prince? That is my mother’s picture; she was an angel—not a woman! Oh, why is she not among us at this joyful moment!” “Ye—yes; charming—charming! Do you know, I had a mother too,—a princess, and imagine! a re—markably, a re—markably fat woman she was; but that is not what I was going to say,——I—I feel a little weak, and——Au revoir, my charming child—to-morrow—to-day—I will—I—I—Au revoir, au revoir!” Here the poor old fellow tried to kiss his hand, but slipped, and nearly fell over the threshold of the door. “Take care, dear Prince—take care! lean on my arm!” cried Maria Alexandrovna. “Charming, ch—arming!” he muttered, as he left the room. “I am only now le—learning to live!” Zina was left alone. A terrible oppression weighed down her heart. She felt a sensation of loathing which nearly suffocated her. She despised herself—her cheeks burned. With folded hands, and teeth biting hard into her lips, she stood in one spot, motionless. The tears of shame streamed from her eyes,——and at this moment the door opened, and Paul Mosgliakoff entered the room! CHAPTER IX. He had heard all—_all_.