restless and abstracted, until his wife, who by this time clearly
comprehended the nature of his trouble, had secretly decided how it
must be met.

The slender hoard of the old music-master, with a few thousand
rubles from Prince Boris, sufficed for his modest maintenance.
Being now free from the charge of his daughter, he determined to
visit Germany, and, if circumstances were propitious, to secure a
refuge for his old age in his favorite Leipsic. Summer was at
hand, and the court had already removed to Oranienbaum. In a few
weeks the capital would be deserted.

"Shall we go to Germany with your father?" asked Boris, as he sat
at a window with Helena, enjoying the long twilight.

"No, my Boris," she answered; "we will go to Kinesma."

"But--Helena,--golubchik, mon ange,--are you in earnest?"

"Yes, my Boris. The last letter from your--our cousin Nadejda
convinces me that the step must be taken. Prince Alexis has grown
much older since your mother's death; he is lonely and unhappy. He
may not welcome us, but he will surely suffer us to come to him;
and we must then begin the work of reconciliation. Reflect, my
Boris, that you have keenly wounded him in the tenderest part,--his
pride,--and you must therefore cast away your own pride, and humbly
and respectfully, as becomes a son, solicit his pardon."

"Yes," said he, hesitatingly, "you are right. But I know his
violence and recklessness, as you do not. For myself, alone, I am