sage.

"I know," he began, with a forced laugh, "that thy visit that evening
was not to thy taste; but I hope that thou wilt consent to my proposal
nevertheless ... and wilt not refuse my request."

"What art thou talking about?" inquired Aratoff.

"See here," pursued Kupfer, becoming more and more animated; "there
exists here a certain society of amateurs and artists, which from time
to time organises readings, concerts, even theatrical representations,
for philanthropic objects...."

"And the Princess takes part?" interrupted Aratoff.

"The Princess always takes part in good works--but that is of no
consequence. We have got up a literary and musical morning ... and at
that performance thou mayest hear a young girl ... a remarkable young
girl!--We do not quite know, as yet, whether she will turn out a Rachel
or a Viardot ... for she sings splendidly, and declaims and acts.... She
has talent of the first class, my dear fellow! I am not
exaggerating.--So here now ... wilt not thou take a ticket?--Five rubles
if thou wishest the first row."

"And where did this wonderful young girl come from?" asked Aratoff.

Kupfer grinned.--"That I cannot say.... Of late she has found an asylum
with the Princess. The Princess, as thou knowest, is a patron of all
such people.... And it is probable that thou sawest her that evening."

Aratoff started inwardly, faintly ... but made no answer.

"She has even acted somewhere in country districts," went on Kupfer,
"and, on the whole, she was created for the theatre. Thou shalt see for
thyself!"

"Is her name Clara?" asked Aratoff.

"Yes, Clara...."

"Clara!" interrupted Aratoff again.--"It cannot be!"

"Why not?--Clara it is, ... Clara Militch; that is not her real name ...
but that is what she is called. She is to sing a romance by Glinka ...
and one by Tchaikovsky, and then she will recite the letter from 'Evgeny
Onyegin'[55]--Come now! Wilt thou take a ticket?"

"But when is it to be?"

"To-morrow ... to-morrow, at half-past one, in a private hall, on
Ostozhyonka Street.... I will come for thee. A ticket at five rubles?...
Here it is.... No, this is a three-ruble ticket.--Here it is.--And here
is the affiche.[56]--I am one of the managers."

Aratoff reflected. Platonida Ivanovna entered the room at that moment
and, glancing at his face, was suddenly seized with agitation.--"Yasha,"
she exclaimed, "what ails thee? Why art thou so excited? Feodor
Feodorovitch, what hast t