God forgive me, but I can't help hating the memory of her, when I look at my son's misery!" "But how is he now?" "It was a blessing from Providence for us--this Servian war.

I'm old, and I don't understand the rights and wrongs of it, but it's come as a providential blessing to him.

Of course for me, as his mother, it's terrible; and what's worse, they say, _ce n'est pas tres bien vu a Petersbourg_.

But it can't be helped! It was the one thing that could rouse him.

Yashvin--a friend of his--he had lost all he had at cards and he was going to Servia.