sses were spread abroad, but his reverses were
ignored. Foedor described the former with modesty and the latter with
frankness.

One can imagine, the immense interest the general took in Foedor's
story. His two captain's epaulets and the decorations on his breast
proved that the young man had modestly suppressed his own part in the
story he had told. But the general, too courageous to fear that he
might share in Souvarow's disgrace, had already visited the dying
field-marshal, and had heard from him an account of his young protege's
bravery. Therefore, when Foedor had finished his story, it was the
general's turn to enumerate all the fine things Foedor had done in a
campaign of less than a year. Having finished this enumeration, he added
that he intended next day to ask the emperor's permission to take the
young captain for his aide-de-camp. Foedor hearing this wished to throw
himself at the general's feet, but he received him again in his arms,
and to show Foedor how certain he was that he would be successful in
his request, he fixed the rooms that the young man was to occupy in the
house at once.

The next day the general returned from the palace of St. Michel with the
pleasant news that his request had been granted.

Foedor was overwhelmed with joy: from this time he was to form part of
the general's family. Living under the same roof as Vaninka, seeing her
constantly, meeting her frequently in the rooms, seeing her pass like an
apparition at the end of a corridor, finding himself twice a day at the
same table with her, all this was more than Foedor had ever dared hope,
and he thought for a time that he had attained complete happiness.

For her part, Vaninka, although she was so proud, at the bottom of her
heart took a keen interest in Foedor. He had left her with the certainty
that he loved her, and during his absence her woman's pride had been
gratified by the glory he had acquired, in the hope of bridging the
distance which separated them. So that, when she saw him return with
this distance between them lessened, she felt by the beating of her
heart that gratified pride was changing into a more tender sentiment,
and that for her part she loved Foedor as much as it was possible for
her to love anyone.

She had nevertheless concealed these feelings under an appearance of
haughty indifference, for Vaninka was made so: she intended to let
Foedor know some day that she loved him, but until the time came when it
p