een the cause of any bloodshed. Soon after he came
out of prison my husband met him, and he said to my husband: 'I suppose
you will not shake hands with me?' And my husband replied: 'Because
our views are different there is no reason why both of us should not be
honest men,' and he shook hands with him."

The conversation now became a discussion about the various ideals of
various people and parties holding different political views. The large
lady kept on expressing the puzzled state of mind in which she was.

The whole conversation, of which I have given a very condensed report,
was spread over a long time, and often interrupted. Later they reached
the subject of political assassination, and the large lady said:--

"About two months after I came home that year, one day when I was out
driving with my daughter in a sledge the revolutionaries fired six shots
at us from revolvers. We were not hit, but one bullet went through the
coachman's cap. Ever since then I have had nervous fits and my daughter
has had St. Vitus' dance. We have to go to Moscow every year to be
treated. And it is so difficult. I don't know how to manage. When I am
at home I feel as if I ought to go, and when I am away I never have a
moment's peace, because I cannot help thinking the whole time that my
husband is in danger. A few weeks after they shot at us I met some of
the revolutionary party at a meeting, and I asked them why they had shot
at myself and my daughter. I could have understood it if they had shot
at my husband. But why at us? He said: 'When the wood is cut down, the
chips fly about.'[*] And now I don't know what to think about it all.

[*] A Russian proverb.

"Sometimes I think it is all a mistake, and I feel that the
revolutionaries are posing and playing a part, and that so soon as they
get the upper hand they will be as bad as what we have now; and then
I say to myself, all the same they are acting in a cause, and it is a
great cause, and they are working for liberty and for the people. And,
then, would the people be better off if they had their way? The more I
think of it the more puzzled I am. Who is right? Is my husband right?
Are they right? Is it a great cause? How can they be wrong if they are
imprisoned and killed for what they believe? Where is the truth, and
what is truth?"

A LUNCHEON-PARTY

I

Mrs. Bergmann was a widow. She was American by birth and marriage, and
English by education and habits. She was