A Shadow had fallen upon the Oblowsky household. The princess had learned of her husband's "affairs" with the French governess of her children, and had declared that she would no longer live under the same roof with him. The wife remained in her private apartments all day, the husband absented himself, and their children, free from all restraint, wandered from room to room, puzzled as to the cause of the sudden release from their tasks. Even the servants felt the influence of coming trouble, and, one by one, gave notice of their departure.
The climax had come about a few nights before, when the Prince Stepane Archadievitch Oblowsky, returning from the theater, full of gayety and high spirits, had sought his wife in vain. She was neither in the salon nor in her boudoir, but was finally discovered by him sitting in her bedroom with the letter, which had told her all, in her hands. There she sat, an expression of despair, of terror, and of indignation on her face.
"What is the meaning of this?" she asked, holding out the venomous sheet.
Stépane was dumfounded. Instead of defending himself, or denying the anonymous charge, or even of asking pardon and forgiveness, he allowed a cynical smile to pass across his lips, and said nothing.
