eturned. Stepan Trofimovitch
sat down on the sofa and began to cry.

_"Dieu, Dieu."_ he exclaimed, _"enfin une minute de bonheur!"_

Not more than ten minutes afterwards she reappeared according to her
promise, escorted by her Mavriky Nikolaevitch.

_"Vous et le bonheur, vous arrivez en meme temps!"_ He got up to meet her.

"Here's a nosegay for you; I rode just now to Madame Chevalier's, she
has flowers all the winter for name-days. Here's Mavriky Nikolaevitch,
please make friends. I wanted to bring you a cake instead of a nosegay,
but Mavriky Nikolaevitch declares that is not in the Russian spirit."

Mavriky Nikolaevitch was an artillery captain, a tall and handsome man
of thirty-three, irreproachably correct in appearance, with an imposing
and at first sight almost stern countenance, in spite of his wonderful
and delicate kindness which no one could fail to perceive almost the
first moment of making his acquaintance. He was taciturn, however,
seemed very self-possessed and made no efforts to gain friends. Many
of us said later that he was by no means clever; but this was not
altogether just.

I won't attempt to describe the beauty of Lizaveta Nikolaevna. The
whole town was talking of it, though some of our ladies and young girls
indignantly differed on the subject. There were some among them who
already detested her, and principally for her pride. The Drozdovs had
scarcely begun to pay calls, which mortified them, though the real
reason for the delay was Praskovya Ivanovna's invalid state. They
detested her in the second place because she was a relative of
the governor's wife, and thirdly because she rode out every day on
horseback. We had never had young ladies who rode on horseback before;
it was only natural that the appearance of Lizaveta Nikolaevna on
horseback and her neglect to pay calls was bound to offend local
society. Yet every one knew that riding was prescribed her by the
doctor's orders, and they talked sarcastically of her illness. She
really was ill. What struck me at first sight in her was her abnormal,
nervous, incessant restlessness. Alas, the poor girl was very unhappy,
and everything was explained later. To-day, recalling the past, I should
not say she was such a beauty as she seemed to me then. Perhaps she was
really not pretty at all. Tall, slim, but strong and supple, she struck
one by the irregularities of the lines of her face. Her eyes were set
somewhat like a Kalmuck's, slanting; she