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Chapter 7

           Itwasasifjoy—asupremejoyapartfromthejoysandsorrowsofthisworld—overflowedthegreatgriefwithinher.Sheforgotallfearofherfather,wentuptohim,tookhishand,anddrawinghimdownputherarmroundhisthin,scraggyneck.

           “Father,”shesaid,“donotturnawayfromme,letusweeptogether.”

           “Scoundrels!Blackguards!”shriekedtheoldman,turninghisfaceawayfromher.“Destroyingthearmy,destroyingthemen!Andwhy?Go,goandtellLise.”

           Theprincesssankhelplesslyintoanarmchairbesideherfatherandwept.ShesawherbrothernowashehadbeenatthemomentwhenhetookleaveofherandofLise,hislooktenderyetproud.Shesawhimtenderandamusedashewaswhenheputonthelittleicon.“Didhebelieve?Hadherepentedofhisunbelief?Washenowthere?Thereintherealmsofeternalpeaceandblessedness?”shethought.

           “Father,tellmehowithappened,”sheaskedthroughhertears.

           “Go!Go!Killedinbattle,wherethebestofRussianmenandRussia’sglorywereledtodestruction.Go,PrincessMary.GoandtellLise.Iwillfollow.”

           WhenPrincessMaryreturnedfromherfather,thelittleprincesssatworkingandlookedupwiththatcuriousexpressionofinner,happycalmpeculiartopregnantwomen.ItwasevidentthathereyesdidnotseePrincessMarybutwerelookingwithin...intoherself...atsomethingjoyfulandmysterioustakingplacewithinher.

           “Mary,”shesaid,movingawayfromtheembroideryframeandlyingback,“givemeyourhand.”Shetookhersister-in-law’shandandhelditbelowherwaist.

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