it was this treatment--the
treatment she now received from her husband--that made Tina appreciate
the company of her children. Before, they had been quite a tertiary
consideration--Ivan had come first; then the dogs; and lastly, Hilda,
Olga, and Peter. But this order was at length reversed; and on the death
of the last of her pets, Hilda, Olga and Peter stood first. She spent
practically every minute of the day with them; and, despite the
protestations of her husband, converted her dressing-room into a bedroom
for them. The first evening of their removal to their new quarters, Tina
sat and played with them till one after another they fell asleep from
sheer exhaustion. Then she sat beside them and examined them curiously.
Hilda, the eldest, was lying composed and orderly, with pale cheek and
smooth hair, her limbs straight, her head slightly bent, the bedclothes
unruffled upon the regularly heaving chest. How pretty Hilda looked, and
how odd it was that she, Tina, had never noticed the beauty of the child
before! Why, with her fair complexion, delicate features, and perfectly
shaped arms and hands she would undoubtedly one day take all Moscow by
storm; and every one would say, "Do you know who that lovely girl is?
She is the daughter of Tina--Tina Baranoff. [She shuddered at the name
Baranoff.] No wonder she is beautiful!"

Tina turned from Hilda to Olga. What a contrast, but not an unpleasant
one--for Olga was pretty, too, though in a different style. What a
sight!--defying all order and bursting all bounds, flushed, tumbled and
awry--the round arms tossed up, the rosy face flung back, the bedclothes
pushed off, the pillow flung out, the nightcap one way, the hair
another--all that was disorderly and lovely by night, all that was
unruly and winning by day. Tina--dainty, elegant, perfumed, manicured
Tina--bent over untidy little Olga and kissed her.

Then she turned to Peter, and, unable to resist the temptation, tickled
his toes and woke him. When she had at last sent him to sleep again, it
was almost dinner-time; and she had barely got into her dress when one
of the servants rapped at the door to say that the meal was ready. The
house was very large, and Tina had to pass through two halls and down a
long corridor before reaching the room where the dinner was served.
Rather to her relief than otherwise, her husband did not put in an
appearance, and a note from him informed her that he had unexpectedly
been called away