e a Russian
peasant at a concert where is displayed all the creative luxury and
all the brilliant difficulties of foreign music. The child of nature
listens with indifference to the incomprehensible sounds; but
suddenly Vorobieva with her nightingale voice trills out--_The cuckoo
from out the firs so dank hath not cuckooed._ Look what a change
comes over the half-asleep listener. Thus it was with Anastasia! Till
this moment Selinova had spoken to her in a strange language, had
only uttered sounds unintelligible to her; but the instant that she
spoke the _native_ word, it touched the heart-string, and all the
chords of her being thrilled as if they were about to burst.
Anastasia trembled, her hands wandered vaguely over her lace cushion,
her face turned deadly pale. She dared not raise her eyes, and
replied at random, absently.

"'Ah!' thought Selinova, 'that is the right key: that is the point
whence cometh the storm!'

"Both remained silent. At length Anastasia ventured to glance at her
visitor, in order to see by the expression of her face, whether she
had remarked her confusion. Selinova's eyes were fixed upon her work,
on her face there was not even a shade of suspicion. The crafty widow
intended little by little, imperceptibly, to win the confidence of
the inexperienced girl.

"'And where then is _he_ gone?' she asked after a short pause,
without naming the person about whom she was enquiring.

"'He is gone with the Great Prince on the campaign,' answered
Anastasia blushing; then, after a moment's thought she added--'I
suppose thou askedst me about my brother?'

"'No, my dear, our conversation was about Antony the leech. What a
pity he is a heretic! You will not easily find such another gallant
among our Muscovites. He hath all, both height and beauty: when he
looketh, 'tis as though he gave you large pearls; his locks lie on
his shoulders like the light of dawn; he is as white and rosy as a
young maiden. I wonder whence he had such beauty--whether by the
permission of God, or, not naturally, by the influence of the Evil
One. I could have looked at him--may it not be a sin to say, I could
have gazed at him for ever without being weary!'

"At these praises Anastasia's pale countenance blushed like the
dawning that heralds the tempest. 'Thou hast then seen him?' asked
the enamoured maiden, in a trembling, dying voice, and breaking off