42
OLGA.
frequent and affectionate letters were a great alleviation of
her loneliness. The prince returned before the birth of his
child, a boy of great beauty, as the children of love always
are. Olga did not wish to be a mother only in name; and
she, herself, nourished her child with an instinctive jealousy
that made the happy father smile.
"Ithink for the present, at least, there will be nothing
more said about paying visits. Our solitude is peopled now,"
he said to himself.
But Barinsky was only partially right. When an idea has
once entered a woman's head it is difficult to expel it.
Olga's anxiety had, it is true, taken another form, but it
was none the less real, none the less serious; on the contrary,
tho intensity of her maternal love had increased it. What
she had formerly desired for her own sake, she how desired
with far greater intensity for the sake of her child. Had it
not been for the vague fear that tormented her continually,
how happy she would have been with the husband she loved
so fondly, and her idolized babe, who was as fresh and radiant
as a flower.
Paul Barinsky, since his marriage to Olga, had become a
different man. He passionately worshiped his wife, but his
tenderness was even greater than his passion; and his only
object in life seemed to bo Olga's happiness. He had real-
ized the great responsibility he assumed in uniting this wom-
an's life with his own, and in tearing her from the sacred
calm of the cloister to drag her with him into the unrest
of human passion. He had fully comprehended the magni-
tude of his task; he was determined not to fail. The dissi-
pated man thinking only of new conquests, prizing a success
only for its novelty, seeing no happiness except in change—
this man no longer existed. His place was filled by a quiet,
thoughtful man, the husband and father whose gaze never
wandered beyond his own domestic horizon. He was, in
short, exactly the man that a loving woman who had confided
her happiness to his keeping would wish him to be. Olga
would have been intensely happy had it not been for this con-
tinual dread that was devouring her heart. But jt was de-
vouring it. She felt its gnawing even in her husband's arms
—even when she held little Paulowich pressed to her bosom.
It had been agreed, and certainly it was a most natural
thing, that the Princess Alexandra, Paul's sister and Olga's
friend, should be their child's godmother. Paul had made
no objection to the proposal; and really could make none.
But he never spoke of the baptism; if Olga made any allu-
sion to it, he tried to change the subject; if she persisted,
he made some excuse for postponing the ceremony, and his
poor wife pleaded in vain. At last she could endure it no
longer. Paul having been called away on business, she re-
solved to put an end to the suspense that was killing her;
and she profited by her husband's absence to take her mar-
riage certificate and go to the priest who had united her to
Barinsky.
" What is this?" she demanded, brusquely, without any
sort of preparation, like a woman resolved to know the truth,
and that, without delay.
" That, madame?   Why it is a marriage certificate."
" Certainly; I am aware of it; and it is not only a marriage
certificate, but it is mine!"
" But, madame, I do not understand."
"Very well! I wish to know"—here Olga's voice trem-
bled, and she spoke in lower tones—"I wish to know if
this document is regular. I wish to know the truth, noth-
ing but the truth, a'nd the whole truth."
The priest did not reply fora few moments, and, to conceal
his agitation, he examined with the closest attention a docu-
ment which certainly did not require to be studied so long to
give him a correct idea of its value!
" You see that I am waiting, monsieur," said Olga, quietly,
touching his arm.
"Madame," he said at last, without lifting his eyes, " it is
possible that this document maybe valuable from a religious
point of view. I am certain of it; some formalities may be
lacking; but I believe that the essential conditions have been
fulfilled. It might even hold in a court of law; but the
gravest objection is that the marriage was contracted under
all the conditions of a secret marriage—which is always con-
testable."
Olga, on hearing these words, sank into a chair and buried
her face in her hands.
Her face was as white as marble, her lips were livid, and a
shudder shook her from head to foot, but her eyes were dry
and glittering.
"A secret marriage," she murmured. "Ah! now all is
explained; and our hasty bridal, the absence of his sister, of
whom I have not heard him speak for more than a year, and
the solitude in which he keeps me even in this out-of-the-
way place. Can it be that he has done me this wrong? And
why? What could have been his motive? For he loves me—
I know it, I feel it, he proves it to me every hour of my life!
Oh! Paul, Paul, what a wrong you have done me!"
She sprang up, pushed back her chair, and began a hasty
walk up and down the room. The poor priest watching her,
grieved and surprised by the anguish" of which he had been the
involuntary cause.
Gradually her terrible agitation subsided. Olga reseated
herself, and, after a few moments silence, raised her beautiful
eyes imploringly to the priest's face.
" Since you have told me so much," said she, " tell me all;
you may be assured that my gratitude will equal my dis-
cretion."
" But how can I tell you all when I know nothing?"
"You know nothing! Do you not know the motive that
actuated the prince—whose love is surely mine—to contract
only a secret marriage with me?"
"I have not the slightest suspicion, unless it may have
been on account of his first marriage."
" But that has been rendered null and void by his di-
vorce."
"That is a question!"
" Then, monsieur," cried the wretched woman, in a burst
of frenzy, " then the priest who married us—I am wrong,
who pretended to marry us—this priest is a scoundrel, unwor-
thy of the sacred authority which he exercises. Oh! he
shall be punished. I will denounce him to the emperor. I
will have him degraded—exiled to Siberia!"
"Alas! madame, you can, without doubt, do him great in-
jury; but would it not be more just, more humane, above all,
more Christian-like, to think of the extent of the influence
exerted over this unfortunate priest by a man as determined
and as powerful as the prince—forgive me, madame, if I
offend you, but you ordered me to tell you the truth."
" You are, perhaps, right," said Olga, clasping her hands
over her burning forehead, " and several trifling circumstances
whicli I now remember convince me that the priest was not
the real culprit. My God! my God! how wretched I am!
But go on unto the end; I desire it, I command! What
is the value of this marriage from a legal point of view?"
"It is slight, since the marriage was contracted before the
legal divorce had been granted; but as you were ignorant of
this, and acted in good faith, ihe marriage entitles you and
your children to certain rights------"
"And what is its religious validity?"
"Much greater, in my opinion. The Princess Barin-
sky------"
On hearing the name and title which she had considered
exclusively her own applied to another, Olga could not repress
a movement of indignant anger.
"Excuse me, madame," said the priest, with a gentleness
and humility which would have disarmed a less kind and
less generous nature than Olga's, " God knows that for noth-
ing in the world would I offend you."
"I know it, monsieur; pray go on, and be assured that I
will not interrupt you again."
"This lady," resumed the priest, " who has left Russia for-
ever, and who is, consequently, no longer amenable to our
laws, could give, by a simple agreement signed by her hand,
an all-sufficient acquiescence, so far as she is concerned, to the
desire for a divorce manifested by the prince. This document
which freed her, was, in the opinion of the priest who mar-
ried you, equivalent to an act of divorce, and his conscience
permitted him to celebrate a marriage whieh united you to
the prince by a firm and legitimate bond."
" Then I may continue to live with—my husband—for he
is my husband, monsieur. You yourself have said it! I may
continue to live with him without sin before God."
" In my opinion you not only may, but should do so! The
laws of God are independent of human laws, and above
them."
When one has feared the worst oneclings to the slightest
hope with passionate tenacity, and in such cases if a person
has escaped utter misery, he feels something very like satis-
faction. The assurance that she might still love her husband
without sinning against her God; and that she might remain
with him was a great comfort to Olga. She was willing to
crucify her pride if she could but preserve her love.