e lying down."

"More comfortable to die?" sharply interrupted the general. "Why do
you drivel? You know I detest beds and blankets. Drop it! Here, take
this," and he gave him a sheet of crested paper folded in four, which
was lying beside him. "Read it, please. Aloud! so that she may know."

He turned his eyes toward his wife. The doctor unwillingly began his
unpleasant task. He was a man of fine feeling, and although he had no
very high opinion of the general's wife, still she was a woman. And a
beautiful woman. He would have preferred that she should learn from
someone else how many of the pleasures of life were slipping away from
her, in virtue of the new will. But there was nothing for it but to do
as he was ordered. It was always hard to oppose Iuri Pavlovitch; now
it was quite impossible.

Olga Vseslavovna listened to the reading of the will with complete
composure. She sat motionless, leaning back in an armchair, with
downcast eyes, and only showing her emotion when her husband was no
longer able to stifle a groan. Then she turned toward him her pale,
beautiful face, with evident signs of heartfelt sympathy, and was even
rising to come to his assistance. The sick man impatiently refused her
services, significantly turning his eyes toward the doctor, who was
reading his last will and testament, as though he would say: "Listen!
Listen! It concerns you."

It did concern her, without a doubt. General Nazimoff's wife learned
that, instead of an income of a hundred thousand a year, which she had
had a right to expect, she could count only on a sum sufficient to
keep her from poverty; what in her opinion was a mere pittance.

The doctor finished reading, coughing to hide his confusion, and
slowly folded the document.

"You have heard?" asked the general, in a faint, convulsive voice.

"I have heard, my friend," quietly answered his wife.

"You have nothing to say?"

"What can I say? You have a right to dispose of what belongs to
you.... But ... still I...."

"Still you what?" sharply asked her husband.

"Still, I hope, my friend, that this is not your last will...."

General Nazimoff turned, and even made an effort to raise himself on
his elbow.

"God willing, you will recover. Perhaps you will decide more than once
to make other dispositions of your property," calmly continued his
wife.

The sick man fell back on the pillows.

"You are mistaken. Even if I do not die, you will not be able to
deceive