tle to the church on the opposite hill.
There the mass for the dead was chanted, the responses being sung by a
choir of silvery boyish voices. All the appointments were of the
costliest character. Not only all those within the church, but the
thousands outside, spared not their tears, but wept until the fountains
were exhausted. Notice was given, at the close of the services, that
"baked meats" would be furnished to the multitude, and that all beggars
who came to Kinesma would be charitably fed for the space of six weeks.
Thus, by her death, the amiable Princess Martha was enabled to dispense
more charity than had been permitted to her life.

At the funeral banquet which followed, Prince Alexis placed the Abbot
Sergius at his right hand, and conversed with him in the most edifying
manner upon the necessity of leading a pure and godly life. His remarks
upon the duty of a Christian, upon brotherly love, humility, and
self-sacrifice, brought tears into the eyes of the listening priests. He
expressed his conviction that the departed Princess, by the piety of her
life, had attained unto salvation,--and added, that his own life had now
no further value, unless he should devote it to religious exercises.

"Can you not give me a place in your monastery?" he asked, turning to
the Abbot. "I will endow it with a gift of forty thousand rubles, for
the privilege of occupying a monk's cell."

"Pray, do not decide too hastily, Highness," the Abbot replied. "You
have yet a son."

"What!" yelled Prince Alexis, with flashing eyes, every trace of
humility and renunciation vanishing like smoke,--"what! Borka? The
infamous wretch who has ruined me, killed his mother, and brought
disgrace upon our name? Do you know that he has married a wench of no
family and without a farthing,--who would be honored, if I should allow
her to feed my hogs? Live for _him?_ live for _him?_ Ah-z-z-z!"

This outbreak terminated in a sound between a snarl and a bellow. The
priests turned pale, but the Abbot devoutly remarked,--

"Encompassed by sorrows, Prince, you should humbly submit to the will of
the Lord."

"Submit to Borka?" the Prince scornfully laughed. "I know what I'll do.
There's time enough yet for a wife and another child,--ay, a dozen
children! I can have my pick in the province; and if I couldn't, I'd
sooner take Masha, the goose-girl, than leave Borka the hope of stepping
into my shoes. Beggars they shall be,--beggars!"

What further he m