her husband, whose jovial face encouraged them to
enjoy themselves.

The young people had all vanished; but half an hour later an old
marquise with patches appeared on the scene--none other than Nicolas;
Petia as a Turk; a clown--Dimmler; a hussar--Natacha; and a
Circassian--Sonia. Both the girls had blackened their eyebrows and
given themselves mustaches with burned cork.

After being received with well-feigned surprise, and recognized more or
less quickly, the children, who were very proud of their costumes,
unanimously declared that they must go and display them elsewhere.
Nicolas, who was dying to take them all for a long drive _en troika_,[C]
proposed that, as the roads were in splendid order, they should go, a
party of ten, to the Little Uncle's.

[C] A team of three horses harnessed abreast.

"You will disturb the old man, and that will be all," said the countess.
"Why, he has not even room for you all to get into the house! If you
must go out, you had better go to the Melukows'."

Mme. Melukow was a widow living in the neighborhood; her house, full of
children of all ages, with tutors and governesses, was distant only four
versts from Otradnoe.

"A capital idea, my dear," cried the count, enchanted. "I will dress up
in costume and go, too. I will wake them up, I warrant you!"

But this did not at all meet his wife's views. Perfect madness! For him
to go out with his gouty feet in such cold weather was sheer folly! The
count gave way, and Mme. Schoss volunteered to chaperon the girls.
Sonia's was by far the most successful disguise; her fierce eyebrows and
mustache were wonderfully becoming, her pretty features gained
expression, and she wore the dress of a man with unexpected swagger and
smartness. Something in her inmost soul told her that this evening would
seal her fate.

[Illustration: Sonia]

In a few minutes four sleighs with three horses abreast to each, their
harness jingling with bells, drew up in a line before the steps, the
runners creaking and crunching over the frozen snow. Natacha was the
foremost, and the first to tune her spirits to the pitch of this
carnival freak. This mirth, in fact, proved highly infectious, and
reached its height of tumult and excitement when the party went down the
steps and packed themselves into the sleighs, laughing and shouting to
each other at the top of their voices. Two of the sleighs were drawn by
light cart-horses, to the third the count's carriage hors