ertakers and servants, she suddenly saw coming toward her,
with outstretched hand, and with tears of compassion in her eyes, the
Princess Ryadski, the same aristocratic kinswoman who had already
taken little Olga to stay with her.
"I must shake hands with her! And that horrible packet is in my hand!
Where shall I put it? How can I hide it?" Before her eyes gleamed the
brilliantly lighted, ashen forehead of the dead man, helplessly bent
backward and sideways, as the whole body was suspended in the hands of
the undertakers, over its last abode.
A saving thought!
The general's wife bent gently over the dead body. She gently
supported the head of the corpse, gently laid it on the satin cushion,
straightened the frills which surrounded the hard pillow, and,
unperceived, left under it the twisted roll of paper.
"It will be safer there!" The thought flashed through her mind. "He
wanted to keep his will himself; well, keep it to eternity, now! What
more can you ask?"
And it even seemed ludicrous to her. She could hardly restrain a smile
of triumph, changing it into a sad smile of grief, in reply to her
kinswoman's condolences. The coffin was already lying in state on the
bier; it was covered with brocade and flowers. The princess, as
kinswoman of the late general, bent low, and first laid on the dead
body the wreath she had brought with her.
"The poor sufferer has entered into rest," she whispered, shaking her
head. "Will the funeral service be soon? Where will it be? Where is
Olga Vseslavovna?"
"She will be here in a moment," the Sister of Mercy whispered, deeply
affected; "she has gone to fix herself. They will begin the funeral
service in a few minutes, and she is all in disorder. She is in great
grief. Will you not take a seat?"
"What? Sit down? Thank you," loftily replied the princess. And she
went toward a dignified personage who was entering, adorned with many
orders and an aristocratic beard.
The general's wife soon came to herself. "Rita! I must wash and dress
as quickly as possible. Ah! pray forgive me, doctor! They called me
away to my husband. They were placing him in the coffin." She sighed
deeply. "What is this? Oh, yes, the announcement of his death. Very
good. Send it, please. But I must dress at once. The funeral service
will begin immediately."
"Doctor! Is the doctor here?" an anxious voice sounded in the
corridor.
"I am coming! What is it?"
"Please come quick, Edouard Vicentevitch
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