Papa had been such a good man. How he would despair at seeing her tormented by this illicit passion for a man not worthy to clean his boots!
Her mother, she knew, would have understood, but that did not mean that she would have approved.
*
Konstantina had been ill all through the last weeks of November.
Now it was early December and the weather had turned colder than Konstantina ever thought possible.
Despite the heavy curtains and locked shutters of Megherny, an icy wind still managed to whistle through its dark passages and there was snow everywhere.
The Countess remained a good deal of the time in her chamber. If she did deign to attend meals at the long table in the dining hall, she sat almost submerged in furs.
Her red-nailed fingers were often blue with the cold and poor circu
