air, and she could hear every word. How good to sit alone and lend ear to the stillness ; now a breeze blew and shook the tree-tops; now a frog rustled in last year's grass; now, beyond the wall, a clock struck the quarters. To sit here, motionless; to listen; to think, to think, to think.
An old woman with a wallet passed down the path. The princess thought that she would stop this old woman and say something kindly, something; helpful, and from the heart. But the woman did not look round, and disappeared at a turn in the path.
A little later a tall, grey-bearded man, in a straw hat, came down the path. When he reached the princess he took off his hat and bowed, and from the bald forehead and sharp, humped nose the princess saw that it was Doctor Mikhail Ivanovitch, five years ago her employé at Dubovki. She remembered bearing that this doctor's wife had died a year before, and she wished to show her sympathy and to console him.
“Doctor, you did not recognise me, I think?” she said, smiling kindly.
“Yes, princess, I did,” he euiswered. He raised his hat again.
“Thanks; I thought you had forgotten your princess. People remember only their enemies; they forget their friends. You came to pray!”
“I stay here every Saturday night — professionally. I am the monastery doctor.”
