did not lift his stick again but hurried into the house.
Before dinner, Princess Márya and Mademoiselle Bourienne, who knew that the prince was in a bad humor, stood awaiting him; Mademoiselle Bourienne with a radiant face that said: “I know nothing, I am the same as usual,” and Princess Márya pale, frightened, and with downcast eyes.
What she found hardest to bear was to know that on such occasions she ought to behave like Mademoiselle Bourienne, but could not.
She thought: “If I seem not to notice he will think that I do not sympathize with him; if I seem sad and out of spirits myself, he will say (as he has done before) that I’m in the dumps.”
The prince looked at his daughter’s frightened face and snorted.
“Fool … or dummy!” he muttered.
“And the other one is not here. They’ve