elieve nothing but that she is a
guilty creature.

"When I tried to rid her soul of this gloomy fallacy, she suffered so
terribly that my heart will never be quite at peace so long as I can
remember that dreadful time!--Do you know why she left me? Simply to
prove to me what is not true--that she is base. But the worst of it is,
she did not realize herself that that was all she wanted to prove by
her departure! She went away in response to some inner prompting to
do something disgraceful, in order that she might say to
herself--'There--you've done a new act of shame--you degraded creature!'

"Oh, Aglaya--perhaps you cannot understand all this. Try to realize that
in the perpetual admission of guilt she probably finds some dreadful
unnatural satisfaction--as though she were revenging herself upon
someone.

"Now and then I was able to persuade her almost to see light around
her again; but she would soon fall, once more, into her old tormenting
delusions, and would go so far as to reproach me for placing myself on a
pedestal above her (I never had an idea of such a thing!), and informed
me, in reply to my proposal of marriage, that she 'did not want
condescending sympathy or help from anybody.' You saw her last night.
You don't suppose she can be happy among such people as those--you
cannot suppose that such society is fit for her? You have no idea how
well-educated she is, and what an intellect she has! She astonished me
sometimes."

"And you preached her sermons there, did you?"

"Oh no," continued the prince thoughtfully, not noticing Aglaya's
mocking tone, "I was almost always silent there. I often wished to
speak, but I really did not know what to say. In some cases it is best
to say nothing, I think. I loved her, yes, I loved her very much indeed;
but afterwards--afterwards she guessed all."

"What did she guess?"

"That I only PITIED her--and--and loved her no longer!"

"How do you know that? How do you know that she is not really in love
with that--that rich cad--the man she eloped with?"

"Oh no! I know she only laughs at him; she has made a fool of him all
along."

"Has she never laughed at you?"

"No--in anger, perhaps. Oh yes! she reproached me dreadfully in anger;
and suffered herself, too! But afterwards--oh! don't remind me--don't
remind me of that!"

He hid his face in his hands.

"Are you aware that she writes to me almost every day?"

"So that is true, is it?" cried the prince, greatly