to him
that he had insulted the girl by his declaration, that she would
not come to him again.

He resolved to find out her address from the address bureau in the
morning, and to write her a letter of apology. But Alice came without
a letter. For the first minute she felt uncomfortable, then she
opened a book and began briskly and rapidly translating as usual:

"'Oh, young gentleman, don't tear those flowers in my garden which
I want to be giving to my ill daughter. . . .'"

She still comes to this day. Four books have already been translated,
but Vorotov knows no French but the word "Memoires," and when he
is asked about his literary researches, he waves his hand, and
without answering, turns the conversation to the weather.

THE PRINCESS

A CARRIAGE with four fine sleek horses drove in at the big so-called
Red Gate of the N--- Monastery. While it was still at a distance,
the priests and monks who were standing in a group round the part
of the hostel allotted to the gentry, recognised by the coachman
and horses that the lady in the carriage was Princess Vera Gavrilovna,
whom they knew very well.

An old man in livery jumped off the box and helped the princess to
get out of the carriage. She raised her dark veil and moved in a
leisurely way up to the priests to receive their blessing; then she
nodded pleasantly to the rest of the monks and went into the hostel.

"Well, have you missed your princess?" she said to the monk who
brought in her things. "It's a whole month since I've been to see
you. But here I am; behold your princess. And where is the Father
Superior? My goodness, I am burning with impatience! Wonderful,
wonderful old man! You must be proud of having such a Superior."

When the Father Superior came in, the princess uttered a shriek of
delight, crossed her arms over her bosom, and went up to receive
his blessing.

"No, no, let me kiss your hand," she said, snatching it and eagerly
kissing it three times. "How glad I am to see you at last, holy
Father! I'm sure you've forgotten your princess, but my thoughts
have been in your dear monastery every moment. How delightful it
is here! This living for God far from the busy, giddy world has a
special charm of its own, holy Father, which I feel with my whole
soul although I cannot express it!"

The princess's cheeks glowed and tears came into her eyes. She
talked incessantly, fervently, while the Father Superior, a grave,
plain, shy old man of seven