avorite
ballad.

Though she had said she was not in the humor, it was long since Natacha
had sung so well as she did that evening, and long before she sang so
well again. Her father, who was talking over business with Mitenka in
his room, hurriedly gave him some final instructions as soon as he heard
the first note, as a schoolboy scrambles through his tasks to get to his
play; but as the steward did not go, he sat in silence, listening, while
Mitenka, too, standing in his presence, listened with evident
satisfaction. Nicolas did not take his eyes off his sister's face, and
only breathed when she took breath. Sonia was under the spell of that
exquisite voice and thinking of the gulf of difference that lay between
her and her friend, full conscious that she could never exercise such
fascination. The old countess had paused in her "patience,"--a sad, fond
smile played on her lips, her eyes were full of tears, and she shook her
head, remembering her own youth, looking forward to her daughter's
future and reflecting on her strange prospects of marriage.

Dimmler, sitting by her side, listened with rapture, his eyes half
closed.

"She really has a marvellous gift!" he exclaimed. "She has nothing to
learn,--such power, such sweetness, such roundness!"

"And how much I fear for her happiness!" replied the countess, who in
her mother's heart could feel the flame that must some day be fatal to
her child's peace.

Natacha was still singing when Petia dashed noisily into the room to
announce, in triumphant tones, that a party of mummers had come.

"Idiot!" exclaimed Natacha, stopping short, and, dropping into a chair,
she began to sob so violently that it was some time before she could
recover herself. "It is nothing, mamma, really nothing at all," she
declared, trying to smile. "Only Petia frightened me; nothing more." And
her tears flowed afresh.

All the servants had dressed up, some as bears, Turks, tavern-keepers,
or fine ladies; others as mongrel monsters. Bringing with them the chill
of the night outside, they did not at first venture any farther than the
hall; by degrees, however, they took courage; pushing each other forward
for self-protection, they all soon came into the music-room. Once there,
their shyness thawed; they became expansively merry, and singing,
dancing, and sports were soon the order of the day. The countess, after
looking at them and identifying them all, went back into the
sitting-room, leaving