"But what a contrast!" (looking around me).
"Not more striking than many others which we might see. Life is made up of them. Every possible measure is being taken to prevent the spread of the scourge; it has not yet gone beyond the Volga. Whole villages in which the disease has appeared have been burned to the ground, together with the clothing of the peasants, for whom new homes have been provided. You need not be apprehensive."
"It is not that," I returned, recovering my spirits and my color somewhat. "I am not alarmed for myself, but it seems such a frightful curse."
"It is," murmured George. "Poor Russia has had more than her share of affliction. Whatever her faults, she has been heavily punished for them."
There fell upon us a silence which I was loath to break, for I felt strangely subdued and quiet. It was George who spoke first, with a well-affected air of indifference, in which I could detect a thrill of meaning.
"Alice tells me some strange news."
"Indeed! Is it about any one whom I know? Will it interest me?"
"It should interest you, for it is about yourself."
I darted an inquiring look at him, and he smiled calmly.
"I don't know why Alice told me," he continued, "for she said it was a secret, and that, if I betrayed her confidence, you would never forgive me."
A little sharp cry escaped me. I changed it into a laugh, but it sounded hoarse and unnatural. For an
