“Very sorry; but in point of fact, you know, it was all nonsense and would have ended in smoke, as usual⁠—I’m sure of that. Last year,”⁠—he turned to the old man again⁠—“Countess K⁠⸺ joined some Roman Convent abroad. Our people never seem to be able to offer any resistance so soon as they get into the hands of these⁠—intriguers⁠—especially abroad.”

“That is all thanks to our lassitude, I think,” replied the old man, with authority. “And then their way of preaching; they have a skilful manner of doing it! And they know how to startle one, too. I got quite a fright myself in ’32, in Vienna, I assure you; but I didn’t cave in to them, I ran away instead, ha, ha!”

“Come, come, I’ve always heard that you ran away with the beautiful Countess Levitsky that time⁠—throwing up everything in order to do it⁠—and not from the Jesuits at all,” said Princess Bielokonski, suddenly.

“Well, yes⁠—but we call it from the Jesuits, you know; it comes to the same thing,” laughed the old fellow, delighted with the pleasant recollection.