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 living abroad; I read the newspapers, and I learned about the Bulgarian atrocities; but I never could understand why all Russia took such a sudden fancy for their Slavic brethren. I am sure I never felt the slightest love for them. I was greatly ashamed. I thought I must be either a monster, or that Carlsbad had a bad effect on me. But since I have come back, I don't feel stirred at all; and I find that I am not the only one who is not so much interested in the Slav brethren as in Russia. Here is Konstantin."

"Private opinions are of no consequence—there is no meaning in private opinions—when all Russia, when the whole people, signified what they wished," said Sergyeï Ivanovitch.

"Yes. Excuse me. I don't see this. The people don't know anything," said the prince.

"But, papa, how about that Sunday in church?" said Dolly, who had been listening to the conversation.—"Get me a towel, please," she said in an aside to the old bee-keeper, who was looking at the children with a friendly smile. "It can't be that all ...."

"Well! What about that Sunday at church? They tell the priest to read a prayer. He reads it. Nobody understands one word. They snore just as they do during the whole sermon," continued the prince. "Then they tell them that the salvation of their souls is in question. Then they pull out their kopeks, and give them, but why they have not the least idea,"

"The people cannot know their destiny. They have an instinctive feeling, and at times like these they show it," said Sergyeï Ivanovitch, looking at the old beekeeper.

The handsome, tall old man, with his black beard, wherein a few gray hairs were beginning to show, and with his thick, silvery hair, stood motionless, holding a cup of honey in his hand, looking at the gentlemen with a mild, placid air, evidently not understanding a word of the conversation, nor caring to understand.

He nodded his head with deliberation as he heard Sergyeï Ivanovitch's words, and said:—