ocle dangled on a wide black ribbon, the pale tint of his suede
gloves matched his grey checked trousers. He was clean shaven, and his
hair was closely cropped. His features were somewhat effeminate, with
his large eyes, set close together, his small flat nose, full red lips,
betokening the amiable disposition of a well-bred nobleman. He was
effusion itself, but very easily turned spiteful, and even vulgar, when
any one dared to annoy him, or to upset his religious, conservative,
or patriotic principles. Then he became merciless. All his elegance
vanished like smoke, his soft eyes assumed a cruel expression, ugly
words would flow from his beautiful mouth, and he usually got the best
of an argument by appealing to the authorities.

His family had once been simple gardeners. His great-grandfather
was called Kolomientzov after the place in which he was born; his
grandfather used to sign himself Kolomietzev; his father added another I
and wrote himself Kollomietzev, and finally Simion Petrovitch considered
himself to be an aristocrat of the bluest blood, with pretensions to
having descended from the well-known Barons von Gallenmeier, one of whom
had been a field-marshal in the Thirty Years' War. Simion Petrovitch was
a chamberlain, and served in the ministerial court. His patriotism had
prevented him from entering the diplomatic service, for which he was cut
out by his personal appearance, education, knowledge of the world, and
his success with women. Mais quitter la Russie? Jamais! Kollomietzev
was rich and had a great many influential friends. He passed for a
promising, reliable young man un peu feodal dans ses opinions, as Prince
B. said of him, and Prince B. was one of the leading lights in St.
Petersburg official circles. Kollomietzev had come away on a two months'
leave to look after his estate, that is, to threaten and oppress his
peasants a little more. "You can't get on without that!" he used to say.

"I thought that your husband would have been here by now," he began,
rocking himself from one leg to the other. He suddenly drew himself up
and looked down sideways--a very dignified pose.

Valentina Mihailovna made a grimace.

"Would you not have come otherwise?"

Kollomietzev drew back a pace, horrified at the imputation.

"Valentina Mihailovna!" he exclaimed. "How can you possibly say such a
thing?"

"Well, never mind. Sit down. My husband will be here soon. I have sent
the carriage to the station to meet hi